Il Fiore Bianco
by GeneticallyElvenGryffindor
Summary: An Aragorn Story with some Legolas later! UPDATED: The End of all ThingsWhat happens when a girl discovers that she's been living a lie? How does her world change when the truth is revealed? What happens when she discovers her past?
1. Pericolo

An: Hi everyone! This is my semi-sort of-sequel/spin-off to "Il Ballerina Piccolo." You don't really need to read the other story to understand this on, I think. Anyway, I hope you all enjoy the ride! Please be kind and don't flame me for my concept. I came up with it at 8:30AM before either Calculus or General Chemistry. I just do this for fun and to pass the time between my classes. I always appreciate reviews---good, bad, indifferent.  
  
Disclaimer: I own nothing except for a handful of made up characters. Tolkien thought up the concept and, as such, it belongs to him. I'm just playing in his world. I'm broke and in college. All I own are Pointe Shoes.  
  
Then---sometime before the War of the Ring---  
  
She rode, afraid that someone was going to find out. She was keeping a great secret, one that would not only endanger her future but the futures of two others. One of these others did not deserve any ill feelings. He or she was an innocent in this situation.  
  
She continued to ride because she knew she had to. There were, already, many miles between her and her homeland. This flight, this exodus was necessary in order to protect the secret she held. If her father were to find out, there was no telling what he would do.  
  
Though she had been riding, and riding hard for quite sometime, there were still many miles left to cover. The journey between her home and her destination had not been easy. Then again, she had not expected it to be.  
  
The hard riding and the camping had not been good for her, leaving her more and more exhausted as the days passed. She was not worried for herself, however. All her concern was for the baby she was carrying. This journey could not be beneficial for the unborn child.  
  
The baby was the reason she had fled her home and her family. She did not want her father to know she was expecting, lest he do something rash to her, her child, or her child's father. She had decided to ride out when it became apparent her father, a skilled healer, could discern what was happening to his daughter.  
  
There were only a scant few miles between her present location and her destination. Physically and mentally exhausted from the long day of rising, she decided to take a rest.  
  
While the female ate, she took the lay of the land. Many years had passed since she had last journeyed to these parts. The eaves of a golden wood beckoned her with their familiarity. Once she got to those eaves, she would be protected; would be given asylum. There she would be safe. Once under those eaves, she assumed, that her next step would be decided.  
  
Though the child she carried was an accident, something she had never meant to happen, she did not begrudge his or her existence. There was a reason why this happened, though she could not see it now. Perhaps this child was fated to be born now. Perhaps his or her destiny would come into clearer focus when he or she was born.  
  
The child's father was unaware of this situation. The woman was afraid to tell him, afraid of how he would react. She knew that there would come a time when he would have to know about the child's existence but that time was not now. He was not ready to know and she was not prepared, in any way, shape, or form, to tell him. However she thought about breaking the news, whatever words she considered using, they all did not sound right.  
  
Getting up, the woman began to walk toward her horse. Her steps were slow, weary from many different things.  
  
Suddenly, the bushes that surrounded the clearing exploded. Orcs, foul creatures snarling and bearing crude weapons, had her surrounded on all sides. They all seemed to be waiting for the most opportune moment to strike at the lone figure.  
  
A very shrill whistle split the air and a horse came crashing through one group of orcs. The woman managed to mount the horse and, with a whispered command, began to speed away from the orcs. She was confused, wondering why the orcs did not attack. She was badly out numbered and, given her current condition, could have been taken down fairly easily.  
  
She, then, felt rather than saw the arrows whizzing by. Nearly all missed for she was riding at a very fast pace and these orcs did not appear to be very good marksmen. Only one found its mark. This arrow, oozing a foul green substance, embedded itself in her side.  
  
Almost instantly, she knew something was wrong. The pain in her side, at first not noticeable, had escalated to a manner of pain she could not classify. It had spread from her side, across her stomach, to her other side. It took a great effort to keep herself on the back of her mount.  
  
Her vision began to blur. The trunks of the trees began to double and triple. Paths melded and reformed before her very eyes.  
  
"The substance on the arrow," she though, fighting through the pain and spurning her mount to greater and greater speeds, "is going to kill me and this child."  
  
The borders of the woods drew closer and closer as the pain grew more and more intense. She hoped that, once within the confines of the woods, someone could save her and, more importantly, her child.  
  
On the outskirts of the woods, she noticed that front of her dress was stained dark. With a shaking hand she reached out to touch the stained cloth. To her shock, she discovered that the stained portions were wet with blood.  
  
Spots danced before her eyes and the edges of her vision began to darken. It took an effort just to steer her horse towards one of the trees she knew housed a guard's platform.  
  
"Who goes there?" one of the guards called, in a clipped voice.  
  
When he received no reply, he soundlessly climbed down a ghostly gray ladder and approached the frightened and tired horse.  
  
He took in the state of both horse and rider, shock marring his features.  
  
"Fetch a healer," she shouted to the others in the trees above him, "This woman is in grave danger."  
  
All the woman could do was croak out, "Help."  
  
Then she saw no more. 


	2. La Gran Nonna

AN: Thanks for the reviews! All of you rock! I'm sorry for the slow update but I just started school and I have two really nutty professors---one who's prone to emotional breakdowns and the other just came back from triple bypass surgery. As soon as I get everything on track, I'll up date a bit quicker.  
  
Kerla: How so? Where have you read this before? I'm just curious.  
  
pixie88: Thanks! This story got its start in my other story---well, one of the characters did anyway. I hope you like this story.  
  
Saralitazie: I always appreciate a good guess! You might be right, you never know. The mystery lady's identity will be revealed shortly.  
  
Hobbitgirl11: Well, you're very welcome and thanks for the compliment. Here's the next chapter.  
  
sunni07: All will be revealed in time---faster than you know!  
  
Disclaimer: I own nothing except for a handful of made up characters. Tolkien thought up the concept and, as such, it belongs to him. I'm just playing in his world. I'm broke and in college. All I own are Pointe Shoes.  
  
Galadriel, the Lady of Light and one half of the couple that ruled in the Golden Woods, waited nervously in her quarters. She had been expecting her granddaughter's arrival for several hours and the elven maiden had yet to arrive within the borders of Lothlorien.   
  
She feared not only for her granddaughter, lest she befall the same fate as her own daughter did, but for the child her granddaughter was carrying. The ancient elf was one of the few who knew the real reason why her granddaughter had fled the confines of Rivendell and sought our refuge in Lothlorien. The elven maiden had found that she was expecting a child and was afraid of how her father would react. She had requested asylum in Lothlorien and her grandmother could not refuse the request.   
  
"My lady," a clipped voice prompted, snapping the elven maiden out of her reverie.   
  
The ancient elf looked up and took notice of Haldir, the march warden of Lothlorien, waiting to be recognized.   
  
"Yes, Haldir," she said, "Come foreword."   
  
The march warden, weaponless as he approached the Lady of the Woods, walked a few paces foreword and dropped into a formal bow. The elven female motioned for the march warden to straighten up, which he did with swift grace.   
  
She cast a concerned glance at Haldir. He had been acting very cold--- colder than usual---and had become obsessed with his position since the apparent deaths of his wife, Vanye, and two daughters, Litsetaure and Marille. This condition concerned the Lady of the Woods but, at the moment, it was not utmost in her mind. That place was held by her granddaughter.   
  
"My lady," Haldir repeated, "something has happened."   
  
"What has happened?" Galadriel requested, "Has there been word from my granddaughter?"   
  
The march warden, suddenly, looked very uncomfortable. It appeared he had news but he was unwilling to share this news with Galadriel.   
  
"Haldir," she warned, "has there been word from my granddaughter?"   
  
The march warden knew, full well, that she could peer into his mind and discover the information he was, currently, withholding from her.   
  
Deciding that discovering such information in that manner would do no good fro any party involved, Haldir divulged, "Arwen was found nigh on three hours ago. She was badly wounded and taken by two of my corps to outermost healer's house."   
  
Galadriel blanched whiter than her usual complexion. Unlike her daughter, who had been taken by the orcs and her spirit so thoroughly destroyed that she decided to leaves the circles of Middle Earth and sail to West, Arwen had manage to get to Lothlorien. The injury worried Galadriel the most, especially considering the condition she knew her granddaughter was in.   
  
"What type of injury did she sustain?" Galadriel questioned, fighting to keep her voice calm.   
  
"She was injured, my lady, by some type of arrow. The two who saw her off said that there was far more blood then there should have been for such a simple wound. The lower parts of her dress, they said, were wet with blood," Haldir replied, fighting to keep his own emotion out of his voice.   
  
For him to properly do his job, he would have to remain icy calm at all times. He did not want to think about what was happening to Arwen lest thoughts of his own missing daughters begin to surface.   
  
If it was at all possible, the ancient elf blanched even whiter. The state her granddaughter was found in could only indicate one thing and one thing only.   
  
She shook that thought free of her mind; there were skilled healers within the confines of the Golden Woods. Healers skilled enough to save a life that was being forced to make an early entrance into this world. She was also aware of the fact that Arwen would use any means available, even if she was not aware she was using them, to save the life of her child.   
  
"Will you go to her?" Haldir questioned, in a measured voice.   
  
"Of course, I will. Can you lead me?" the ancient elf answered.   
  
"It would be my pleasure and we will go with haste," Haldir replied.   
  
Time seemed to move slowly as the pair walked the long distance from Caras Galthon to the outermost healer's house. This one, specific, outpost was reserved mainly for the injured coming from the fields outside of Lothlorien, whether that person be Eldar or Edain.   
  
"I can only take you this far, my lady," Haldir said, gesturing to the doorway of the healer's house.   
  
He would not go any further, he could not bring himself to, and Galadriel was aware of that fact. His wife had been a healer and, since her loss, he had not yet found the strength to enter into any of the healer's houses in Lothlorien. It took a great deal of strength for him to have taken her this far.   
  
"I understand, Haldir, and I thank you," she said, formally.   
  
The march warden gave a stiff bow and darted off to return to his duty.   
  
Galadriel, meanwhile, entered into the healer's house.   
  
"My lady, what are you doing here?" questioned the first healer to spot the ancient elf.   
  
"I have come to see my granddaughter," Galadriel answered, in a low voice.   
  
Disturbing the others resting here would do her no good.   
  
"Right this way, my lady," the young healer said, after whispering orders to an even younger looking apprentice.   
  
The healer led the ancient elf to a curtained off area toward the back of the long structure.   
  
"She rests here," the young healer pointed out, before bowing off.   
  
Galadriel walked the rest of the way in silence.   
  
Once around the curtain, she saw that three healers were still trying to treat her granddaughter. One was forcing some kind of bubbling concoction down her throat while the other tended to a deep puncture wound on her side. The third healer hurried off as Galadriel approached.   
  
"What happened here?" the ancient elf requested, after taking in the semiconscious site that was her granddaughter.   
  
"My lady," the third healer said, "perhaps it is best you sit down."   
  
She allowed herself to be led to a chair. The healer lowered herself into the adjoining chair and sighed.   
  
"It appears that Arwen was shot with an orc arrow coated with an abortative substance. This amount that she was attacked with was probably great enough to end her life as well as the life of her child. We believe that she may have tried to concentrate on sequestering the substance within her own being, as not to have any harm come to the child, but it seems to be in vein. She is ill, but will recover in time," the healer began.   
  
"What of the child?" Galadriel wanted to know.   
  
"The child-a little girl-was born alive but we are not sure for how long she will stay that way. We have tried treating her with the same substances we are treating Arwen with but it seems only to make her worse," the healer answered.   
  
"May I," Galadriel began, but the healer cut her off.   
  
"Of course," the healer, quickly replied, "perhaps there is something you can do for her that we cannot."   
  
She hurried off, returning moments later cradling a blanked swaddled bundle. The blanket seemed to cove the entire length and breadth of the bundle, obscuring a figure from the ancient elf's sight.   
  
"Here you are, my lady," the healer said, placing the bundle in the ancient elf's waiting arms.   
  
The healer adjusted the blanked a bit and added, "If there is anything you can do to help the poor dear..."   
  
She trailed off and headed back to tend to the child's mother.   
  
Galadriel looked down at the tiny figure in her arms. She weight next to nothing, making it feel like she was holding pure air. The child was not breathing well and, from the dusky blue cast to her lips, was probably not getting enough air into her system. Her skin was clammy and cool to the touch. The ancient elf was surprised to note that the child's eyes were open, highly unfocused, but open nonetheless.   
  
Intuition told her that this child was trying her best to fight whatever substance had entered her minute systems and was ravaging her body. The tiny figure before her was not succeeding, despite the best efforts that she was putting forth.   
  
She watched the baby struggle to breathe for a long handful of moments. She seemed to be progressively getting worse. It was only a matter of time before the inevitable occurred.   
  
"Perhaps," the ancient elf mused, walking over to cupboard and removing two flasks," the treatment was far to strong for you. Let us try it this way."   
  
She poured half the contents of one flask, a thickish, yellow hued semi- liquid, into an earthenware bowl. The substance set as soon as it was exposed to air.   
  
"How do they expect you to swallow this?" she mentally mused, allowing her question to seep into the mind of the figure resting in her arms.   
  
The figure stirred ever so slightly, breathing becoming audibly rougher.   
  
Galadriel noticed the change and began to work with more haste. She uncorked the second flask and mixed its entire contents with the substance that already rested in the bowl. The other flask contained water, heated and allowed to cool back to room temperature again. The water began to turn the yellow semi-liquid into a very thin, yellow tinged liquid.   
  
Ripping a piece of linen cloth that had been resting on a near by stand, Galadriel began to, drop by painstaking drop; drip the thinned liquid into the ill child's mouth.   
  
Like a sick small animal who would not take its medicine, she had to rub the child's throat to initiate swallowing.   
  
Time seemed to pass with syrupy slowness, as every moment felt like a lifetime. At first, there was no discernable improvement in the ill child. It seemed, for a time, that she was getting worse. Then a change came over the way the child was breathing. It was no longer rough and painful sounding. It had evened out, normalized, driving the dusky blue cast from the child's lips.   
  
Galadriel smiled, seeing the improvement. It would seem that this little one would live long enough to see her mother.   
  
"Welcome," the ancient elf murmured, "to the land of the living."   
  
The child's only response was a wide yawn and a shiver that coursed over its entire body.   
  
Removing the thin blanket that had covered the small elfling, something she we have done earlier if not for the extenuating circumstances, Galadriel was surprised to notice that the child was wholly unclad. The thin blanket had been covering the child's form.   
  
With the rush of events that welcomed this elfling into the world and the fact this elfling was not suppose to survive very long, Galadriel was not totally taken aback by her great-granddaughter's appearance.   
  
Rewrapping the small elfling, Galadriel carried the sleeping infant over to a chest that sat near the entrance of the supply room. The chest contained all manner of garments in every conceivable shape and size.   
  
Resting the sleeping elfling in the crook of her arm, the ancient elf extracted the smallest garments she could locate. They would still be too large for the elven infant but they would have to suffice until she grew.   
  
As she dressed the child, Galadriel allowed some of her thoughts to seep into the mind of child. Most were comforting, focused on keeping the infant from waking and crying out.   
  
The rapport seemed to keep the child asleep and allow the ancient elf to gain insight into her own still forming mind. Disjointed images ran amuck in the infant's mind, owing to the fact this child had no grip of language. One thing was very clear, thought, and stood out from all the messy thoughts.   
  
This child was half-elven; the idea already strongly rooted in her mind. Whatever part of the mind this idea came from was more aware than any other section. It knew what it was and how it was suppose to be. There was no telling it otherwise.   
  
After dressing in the proper undergarments and a soft hued night outfit, Galadriel rewrapped the baby. This time, though, she used a proper blanket-- -one made of cotton and pale in color.   
  
"My lady, what has happened?" questioned the third healer, bustling over to check on the ill infant.   
  
"I do believe she has taken a turn for the better," Galadriel replied, placing the infant in the healer's arms.   
  
Distancing the blanket from the child's face, the healer examined her with an expert's eyes. She nodded her approval as she continued her examination.   
  
"Whatever you did, ma'am, it appears to have worked. She will live to see another day," the healer commented with a smile.   
  
"And many more after that," Galadriel added, some satisfaction in her voice, "Leave her with her mother. I will be back sometime later."   
  
The healer nodded but asked, "Why is she to be left with her mother?"   
  
"I do believe that mother and daughter may help each other in the healing process. Please, make sure someone is present when Arwen wakes. She will want to know what has transpired and inform her that her daughter is half- elven," Galadriel replied.   
  
"Half-elven? Her father is of the race of men?" questioned the healer, cuddling the infant close.   
  
The ancient elf nodded, not answering any further.   
  
"I will see that it done, my lady," the healer said.   
  
"I thank you," Galadriel replied, taking her leave.  
  
The healer set about her appointed task, as the elven infant drifted into an uneasy sleep.  
  
(AN: Litsetaure and Marille are two characters who play a bit part in my other Lord of the Rings story. There, though, they are called Ice and Fire. Their story has yet to be told but is being worked on.) 


	3. Tre Generazioni

AN: Hi everyone! Thanks for the reviews! All of you are great and make typing out this story worth it. I hope you're all having fun with the ride.  
  
Lindiel Eryn: That would be strange if she wasn't Aragorn's daughter but I'm not going to say either way. It'll be a bit before we find out to whom she belongs.  
  
hobbitgirl11: It's a sort of sequel to that story. Certain characters from that story will appear later because they have things in common.  
  
Saralitazie: I appreciate your review. I'm not going to say yet to whom the child belongs but perhaps your guess will be right this time.  
  
sunni07: Oh wow, thanks for the compliment. I really like to write but I don't think I'd have the nerve to go into it professionally. It took me nearly two years to work up the nerve to start posting stories here.  
  
LalaithoftheBruinen: Thanks for your review! I'm glad you liked my story!  
  
Kerla: I'm glad you liked the update! Here's another one coming up!  
  
Kaimee: I try to update at least once a week, because of school restraints. It's Italian, actually, and I use it because I took three years of it in high school. I figured it might be interesting to use here.  
  
Elainor: I'm glad you liked this story! Ice and Fire became two of my favorite characters to write about for assorted reasons so I figured I'd work them in here somehow.  
  
pixie88: Wait no more! Here's the update! I'm glad toy liked that idea. It's a sort of nod to the idea of genetic memory. That is, our DNA retains some knowledge of our past.   
  
Disclaimer: I own nothing except for a handful of made up characters. Tolkien thought up the concept and, as such, it belongs to him. I'm just playing in his world. I'm broke and in college. All I own are Pointe Shoes.  
  
Arwen came back to consciousness very slowly. She could not remember how long she had been out and all the events that occurred before her blacking out were foggy and indistinct.  
  
She vaguely recalled being taken to a healer's house and being in so much pain that she had felt she was going to die. She remembered people moving around her, giving her orders, and telling her to remain calm. Then there was nothing else---just a veil of unbroken darkness.  
  
She opened her eyes, wincing as the low sunlight filtered in. She found her gaze fixed on a large basket. She did not recall bringing the basket into Lothlorien with her or why this basket would be important to her.  
  
Making an attempt to get up, she mumbled, "What has taken place?"  
  
"You have had a very trying day, child," said a pale skinned, light haired woman sitting at her bed side, "You must try to rest."  
  
Arwen heeded the woman's words, allowing her to be propped up by several feather pillows.  
  
As she sat up, she realized something was amiss. She could not put a finger on what was wrong or on why this sense of wrongness bothered her so much.  
  
Then it hit her like a bolt from the blue, the familiar bulge that was her child was gone. Blind panic threatened to overtake her but she fought it back. If she were to panic, to fall pray to those emotions, she would never get the answers she sought.  
  
"Can you please tell me what has taken place?" Arwen asked again, her tone slightly pleading.  
  
"You were poisoned, child. They arrow that pierced your side was tipped with a very powerful substance," the woman, a healer, replied.  
  
"What manner of substance could make what took place occur?" Arwen questioned.  
  
The healer lowered her voice an octave above a whisper.  
  
"Those foul creatures used a poison meant to kill the unborn. Though the amount that entered your system could have ended your life as well," the healer explained.  
  
She, then added, "You are very lucky to be alive."  
  
There was one question Arwen wanted to ask but she feared the answer she would receive. If the toxin was so potent, so powerful that it could have ended her life, what would it have done to something that was not yet strong enough to enter into this world?  
  
Steeling herself, Arwen asked, "What about the child I was carrying? Was it delivered safely?"  
  
Part of her wanted to know the answer, even if to have closure on that part of her life. Another part of her was afraid. Afraid that she was not going to like the answer she was about to receive.  
  
Instead of verbally answering Arwen's question, the healer walked over to the basket. Though her back was turned, Arwen spied that she was lifting out a large bundle of cloth. The same bundle was, then, placed in Arwen's arms.  
  
"She is not fully healed yet but we are confident that she will live," the healer commented, sitting back down.  
  
Arwen looked down at the bundle in her arms. Wrapped up in a soft blanket of the palest pink, was the smallest child she had ever seen. Her skin was pale, nearly white, instead of the slight pinkish tinge most infants had. She was light, too light to be normal. A fringe of dark hair, the color of ink, stuck out from her daughter's head and two unfocused dark eyes watched her.  
  
She was attached to the child as soon as she had set eyes on her.  
  
Arwen whispered an elven greeting to the child, telling her that she was her mother and that she loved her.  
  
The healer suppressed a smile and asked, "She is half-elven. You are aware of that fact?"  
  
Reverie broken but not looking up, Arwen answered, "Her father is of the race of men. Is there something wrong with her because of that fact?"  
  
Hearing the panic in the new mother's voice, the healer chided herself. It was impolite to make her worry that way.  
  
"There is just one thing wrong with your daughter, child. She lacks a proper name," the healer informed Arwen.  
  
A name for the child had not crossed Arwen's mind during her flight to Lothlorien. She studied her daughter for a brief moment, hoping a name would come to her. When that did not work, she stared out the room's tiny window. Something about her daughter's nearly white skin and their surroundings provided her with a fitting name.  
  
"I shall call her Niphredil," Arwen announced.  
  
"A fitting name," the healer commented, "Now, there is much I have to show you."  
  
It was early evening when Galadriel returned to the healer's house. She walked the familiar route, pleased to notice that they had moved Arwen to a more private room. That would allow her to care for her infant in private, without the prying eyes of the rest of those being healed.   
  
Upon entering the small room, Galadriel noted that Arwen seemed to be resting on her side, back to the entrance of the room. It appeared that the younger elf was either asleep or entranced by something on that side of the room. Lest she was asleep and not wanting to disturb her if she was, the ancient elf walked to the other side of the bed.   
  
There she discovered a sight that placed a small smile upon her face.   
  
Arwen was, indeed, wide awake. She was lying on her side, watching her equally wide awake daughter. The elven infant rested on the bed, encircled by her mother's arms. The infant was staring up with unfocused, dark eyes.   
  
"It is good to see both of you awake," Galadriel commented; break the silence in the room.   
  
Arwen looked up and noticed the other elf in the room. She sat up, pulling her daughter into her arms as she did so.   
  
"It is good to be awake," she, truthfully, replied, "I was afraid I was not going to wake up ever again."   
  
"It has been a rough day," Galadriel began but was cut off by her granddaughter.   
  
"For Niphredil and I," the other elf finished.   
  
Galadriel looked baffled for a brief moment; unsure of who or what "Niphredil" actually was.   
  
It dawned on her just as Arwen explained, "My daughter's name is Niphredil. She is as pale as the flowers that can be found here."   
  
"It is a good name, even if she will be dark of hair and eye," Galadriel, knowingly, replied.   
  
"You have looked into the mirror?" Arwen questioned.   
  
The ancient elf, simply, nodded.   
  
"What did you see?" the younger elf pressed.   
  
Galadriel sighed, knowing that, at this moment, she could not reveal all she had seen. It would break her granddaughter's heart, if she did.   
  
"Your daughter is in possession of a very rare gift. A gift so rare that it was thought to be part of an ancient myth. Given time, she will be able to enter into the Halls of Mandos and speak to the spirits that reside there. It has also been said that the person who possesses this gift will be able to remove certain spirits from the Halls and return them to the world of the living," the ancient elf explained.   
  
Arwen looked down at her, now sleeping daughter, in awe. A great power resided in the tiny sleeping figure.   
  
"That makes her all the more special," the new mother commented.   
  
"Aye, it does," her grandmother confirmed. 


	4. Rosso o Azzurro

AN: I hope this works! I'm updating from my laptop because my desktop is being evil. This is the first time I've ever tried this from my laptop so keep your finger crossed. I hope everyone had a good week off from school. I, alas, didn't have the week off because I'm in college. I only had Tuesday off....then again; I have every Tuesday off because of my schedule. I'm digressing. Thanks for all your reviews! It's always kind of fun to open my mailbox and see them there.  
  
Midnight-Insomniac1532: Yup! I hope you like this story. I'm trying to update but school's being difficult to say the least.  
  
Lindiel Eryn: Thank for the review, as always. I have this strange obsession with connection all my stories together. Patrick's going to show up in this story rather soon, as a matter of fact.  
  
Hobbitgirl11: I've seen the Extended Edition of The Two Towers only twice but I've never seen it with the commentary on. I'm having trouble convincing anyone to watch the DVD with me. My mother says its just way to long to bother staying up for.  
  
Elainor: I'm glad you liked it! Here's the next part!  
  
LadyJadeParendhil: My dad watches that show! It's very, very odd. Anyway, I'm happy to see you're enjoying my little tale.  
  
sunni07: You may borrow the name so long as you don't use it in the same context as I do. I can't say when Aragorn is going to find out or how he's going to react when he does. I was once told that the greatest things come in small packages. She's small and has a very great gift.  
  
LalaithoftheBruinen: I'm happy to see that you liked the chapter! Here's my next update, done as quick as I can!  
  
Pixie88: Throwing genetic memory into the story is what happens when you take an biology major and allow her to play in Tolkien's universe. Trust me when I say that, while her name is very delicate sounding, she's going to be one tough cookie.  
  
Nana---the elven word for mommy. I figured I'd throw it in there since Niphredil is just a little kid and she has to call her mother something.  
  
Disclaimer: I own nothing except for a handful of made up characters. Tolkien thought up the concept and, as such, it belongs to him. I'm just playing in his world. I'm broke and in college. All I own are Pointe Shoes.  
  
Six months passed and then a year.  
  
Despite the strange circumstances surrounding her birth, Niphredil grew just as any normal elven child. She learned to walk and talk, to dance and to sing, quite well actually. She played with other her age, innocent to the fact that her mother feared telling anyone about her existence.  
  
The quiet existence she shared with her mother was shattered one fine day.  
  
"Nana, where are you?" shouted a small dark haired, dark eyed child.  
  
She wore a ankle length dress of light green. On her feet were soft looking brown slippers. Her hair, just past her shoulders, was pulled into a long braid both to keep it away from her face and to keep it relatively clean.  
  
"Niphredil, there is no need to yell like that. I am right here," Arwen replied, from a short distance behind her young daughter, "Is there something wrong?"  
  
"There is someone here to see you," the child replied in a matter of fact voice.  
  
"A visitor?" Arwen, mentally, questioned, "There is no one that knows I am here save my father and he would allow me to stay here as long as I desired."  
  
"Please tell whoever our mystery guest is to come in," Arwen told Niphredil.  
  
Every time she looked at the little girl, she was amazed that only a year had passed. It seemed like only yesterday that she was born amid mass chaos. Arwen was still scared, though...scared for her life. Though she was elven in appearance and nature, the Niphredil had several small mortal characteristics.  
  
Anyone who was observant enough, knew enough about her, could puzzle out just who sired her little girl.  
  
Niphredil skipped into the room, trying not to fall. Behind her walked a man with carrot red hair.  
  
"Nana," Niphredil said in a small voice, "this man says he needs to speak with you."  
  
Arwen sighed as she looked up to see someone very familiar standing before her. The red headed man was a wizard and a friend of her father's.  
  
"Please sit," Arwen offered.  
  
With a grateful smile, the wizard took the offered seat.  
  
"It is good to see that you are well, Arwen," he said, in a forced casual tone.  
  
"It is good to see that you are well, Patrick. What brings you out this far?" Arwen responded, also taking a seat.  
  
Niphredil, unsure of what was going on, took a seat on her mother's lap.  
  
"Niphredil, please go play. This man and I have something very important to talk about," Arwen told her daughter.  
  
"Of course, nana," Niphredil answered, getting up and darting off.  
  
After thanking her lucky stars for having such and obedient child, Arwen turned her attention back to the red headed wizard sitting before her. He seemed nervous, as if he had something to say but was not quite sure how to say it.  
  
"Your father is worried sick about you," Patrick replied.  
  
"He knows I am here. There is no need for him to be worried about my welfare," Arwen commented.  
  
"He is well aware of the fact that Lothlorien was your final destination. He feels that you have not arrived here safely," Patrick corrected.  
  
He grew quiet for a moment. Arwen watched as, in his mind, the pieces began to fall into place. Her sudden disappearance. The little girl who bore a resemblance to her. The fright with which he greeted her. It all began to make sense to the red-headed wizard.  
  
"Is she yours?" he asked, in a low whisper.  
  
Arwen nodded, finding that she had lost her voice for the moment.  
  
When it returned, she answered, "That is why I came here, Patrick. I was so scared and I did not know where else to turn. I knew that these woods were safe and that my grandmother would protect me and keep my secret."  
  
"You do know who her father is, correct?" Patrick asked, looking shocked as the question came from his mouth.  
  
"Her father is a Ranger called Strider. That makes her half-elven," Arwen answered, trying to keep the annoyance out of her voice.  
  
Patrick seemed to sense there was something not quite right about her tone and commented, "I would have guessed as much. I have heard you two were very close. She is very cute. Her father would be proud."  
  
Arwen smiled at the compliment and questioned, "What does my father want?"  
  
Patrick took a deep breath and let it out. This was not going to be easy for him to say and even more difficult for Arwen to hear.  
  
"He wants you to return to Rivendell. A shadow has fallen---or is falling, I am not sure which---and he feels that it would be best for you to come home," Patrick divulged.  
  
A stunned expression crossed over Arwen's face. This news was most unexpected and, as such, had caught her off guard. She found that she could not think straight, form a coherent thought as the news seeped in.  
  
That shadow did not concern here right now. It was the fact that she had been ordered to return home. If she were to return home, she would have to take Niphredil with her. That would mean she would have to admit to her father what had taken place.  
  
"What will I do with Niphredil, Patrick? I cannot waltz in with her and expect my father to understand," Arwen moaned.  
  
The wizard though for a moment, gathering his ideas together.  
  
"As I see it, you have three options. First, you can take her to Rivendell with you and explain everything to your father. Another option you have is to leave her here in your grandmother's care. Finally, and this is the most extreme of the options, I can take her to my world and she can be raised there. I would leave her with a Muggle family---a non-magic family---for there are dark forces still at work in my world," Patrick answered, ticking off points on his fingers.  
  
Arwen sighed heavily and asked, "Do I have much time to decided?"  
  
With sad eyes, Patrick replied, "Your brother rode out from Rivendell one last time to look for you. They will arrive here by nightfall." 


	5. Miniera Della Bambina

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AN: Did anyone watch the Academy Awards on Sunday? I'm so happy Return of the King won all eleven awards! They deserved each and every one of them. Anyway, thank you ever so much for all your reviews! They make typing this story out worthwhile. I apologize for not updating so often. I have this one professor this semester that makes Sauron seem like a kind, gentle, understanding fellow.

Kerla: I don't mind bad spelling! If it wasn't for spell check, I don't know what I'd do. You are correct; this is the same Patrick from my other story.

Lindiel Eryn: I go to a very, very strange College. We get the entire month of January off and then a week off at the end of March. That's about the extent of our "Spring Break." You'll soon see who and what Niphredil becomes and if she knows Emma.

pixie88: Patrick in my nod to everything Harry Potter related. He pops up from time to time for different reasons. Her choice will be revealed very soon.

Elainor: The problem is choice and Arwen's choice will come up soon.

LalaithoftheBruinen: Just a bit of Harry Potter in there because of Patrick. Here's my update, as fast as I could post it!

Kaimee: Thank you for the compliment. I would love to be a writer but it's taken me this long to work up the nerve to post stories on the site. Aragorn will come up eventually and he might even get to meet Niphredil.

Saralitazie: Sorry the Muggles had to come up. I figured that, since elves are a bit above humans in Lord of the Rings, Niphredil could be a bit smarter than the average year old child.

hobbitgirl11: I'm glad you like my little story! Here's more coming up!

PixiePea000: Updating as fast as I humanly can...I'm not a super intelligent AI or anything. Anyway, GOLLUM and watch out for Agent Elrond Smith (but I can get a few rebels to keep an eye on him for you.).

sunni07: I have this very strange obsession with cliffhangers. I apologize for them in advance. I'm happy you're enjoying this story.

LadyJadePerendhil: Just a bit of Harry Potter for Patrick. It'll only come up whenever Patrick shows up. I borrowed the word "Muggle" from Harry Potter. That's about the extent of it. That's the exact reason why Arwen isn't keen on going back to Rivendell. 

Disclaimer: I own nothing except for a handful of made up characters. Tolkien thought up the concept and, as such, it belongs to him. I'm just playing in his world. I'm broke and in college. All I own are Pointe Shoes.

Patrick had gone off to talk to Haldir and some of the other march wardens in the Golden Woods. Niphredil was off playing somewhere, under the watchful eyes of Galadriel and Celeborn.

Arwen was alone. Alone and left with a decision that would change both her life and life of her daughter.

She sat, agonizing over her decision. She was unaware of time and place and the motion of anyone who might have passed near her. She was far too concerned about the choice she was being asked to make.

That was the essential problem---choice.

On the one hand, she loved her daughter and could not see being separated from her. She imagined the separation to be like loosing a limb. It would be gone but she would still feel its presence.

On the other hand, if there was a real threat growing in Middle Earth, she did not want to put her daughter in danger. If there was a chance Niphredil could be spared exposure to the growing shadow, Arwen might consider exploiting it.

There was another aspect of this situation, an aspect she spent a great deal of her time thinking about and obsessing over. She still had to protect Niphredil's father. If her father were to find that she and he had a child together, she could not predict what the repercussions might be. Not just for her and her daughter but for her daughter's father.

She was well aware of the fact that Strider had many steps left on the path to his destiny and into her arms for good. If he were to know of his daughter, to know that if he were to die or be killed he would be leaving a small daughter fatherless, he might not do what was asked of him.

It was decided then.

Patrick returned just after nightfall, looking harried as usual. He explained to Arwen that he had been eating with the guardians of the Golden Woods and had been asked to put on a display of his brand of magic.

"Patrick," she said, when he had finished his strange tale, "take her to your world. She will be safe there."

"I can not leave her in my world, Arwen. For one, it is not entirely safe there yet. We have our own shadow, so to speak, to deal with. Plus, there will be too many strange questions asked when she grows up. She will want to know why she can not practice our magic or attend our schools. It will be better to leave her in the Muggle world, the world of men as you call it," Patrick explained.

"Knowing this," he added, "is this truly what you want?"

Arwen nodded, answering with, "I do not want her exposed to this shadow, Patrick. She deserves better then that."

Patrick understood only the most base of her feelings. He knew nothing of the restrictions her father had placed on the relationship between her and Strider and how this child was a product of their flouting those restrictions.

She called for her daughter, who came bounding into the room. Galadriel had returned the child several hours previous and Niphredil had gone off to play on her own.

With sad eyes and an even sadder spirit, Arwen looked at the elfling before her.

Mustering up her courage she asked, "Niphredil, would you like to go on an adventure?"

Niphredil gave an eager and excited nod. She loved to pretend to go on adventures, traipsing about Middle Earth as a Ranger or an elven guard.

As she nodded, she said, "As long as you can come with me."

A sudden and very fierce need to keep Niphredil with her threatened to overtake Arwen. It was not fair that her daughter should be parted from her in such an unfair manner. Cool reason began to prevail as thoughts of the growing shadow and of Strider infiltrated her mind. This was the best option for all involved.

"I am very sorry, little one, but I can not come with you. Patrick is going to take you with him and you are going to stay in his world for sometime," Arwen explained, trying to rationalize with a year old elfling and trying not to cry in the process.Tears filled Niphredil's dark eyes. She could not understand why she had to go away, why her mother wanted her to go away.

"Why?" she asked, her voice breaking, "Have I been bad?"

"No," Arwen said, scooping Niphredil up in a tight embrace, "you have done nothing wrong. You are a good little girl---I could not ask for better. It is just that very bad things are going to happen and I do not want you to get hurt. I would feel very bad if you did."

"Will I get to see you again?" the little girl asked, in a hopeful voice.

"Of course," Arwen assured her, "Someone will bring you back when it is safe."

Patrick coughed----a loud sound in the abnormally quiet room.

"I do not want to break this up but we should get going," he interjected looking awfully uncomfortable.

"You listen to Patrick and do not mention anything about Middle Earth to anyone. It will be our little secret," Arwen told Niphredil, putting her back down.

The little girl nodded and bit her lip. It was plain to see that she was fighting the urge to cry. She was trying her best to be as brave as possible...making her mother want to cry.

"Do not cry, little one," Arwen said, more meaning it for herself than for Niphredil.

She removed something from her neck and placed it around the neck of her daughter.

"Here, keep this with you. Whenever you look at it, you can remember me," Arwen said to the child.

Niphredil looked, admiringly, at the star shaped snowflake that hung of the end of the silver chain.

More tears were shed as mother and daughter were loath to be parted. When it was all said and done, Patrick picked up the child and brought her the Muggle World.

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	6. I Nuovi Genitori

AN: Hi again everybody! I hope everyone's had a good week and everything. I had a happy day because my last two classes were cancelled so I got out of school a whole three hours early! To make it that much better, one of the classes that got cancelled was the one with the evil professor I mentioned the last time I updated. Any who, here this week's update and I thank you all for reviewing! You guys rock like a box of socks!  
  
sunni07: You'll find out what happens very soon! I promise that nothing too bad is going to happen to Niphredil.  
  
LalaithoftheBruinen: I'm glad you like it. I'm not going to say if or when Arwen is going to see her daughter again. You'll find out eventually.  
  
Midnight-Insomniac1532: You shall soon see what I have in store for both Arwen and Niphredil. I can't tell you how it ends.  
  
hobbitgirl11: Here's the next chapter. I try to update on Mondays because I don't have school on Tuesdays. (I can stay up extra late to update.)  
  
Kerla: Well, I promise there won't be very many extra sad scenes like that in here. Sad stuff, as well as some other writing styles I can do....just one I have a bit of trouble with.  
  
Saralitazie: Well, thank you for taking the time out to review and I appreciate the luck. I'm glad you like my little tale.  
  
pixie88: Here's some more! You'll get to see how an elf, taken out of her surroundings, responds to this Muggle world fairly soon. I'm glad you liked the song.  
  
Lydia2: Here's an update! I hope you like it!  
  
PixiePea000: I have my anti agent defenses in place in the form of a bunch of rebels (whom I'm sure you know) and I'm updating as fast as humanly possible. According to a certain someone I may be an intelligent AI but, alas, I'm not. Anyway, GOLLUM and watch out for Agent Elrond Smith.  
  
Lindiel Eryn: My sister was, literally, waiting all night for someone to thank Lord of the Rings for not being in their category. She nearly fell off the couch when she heard that guy say that. Choice as a problem comes up a lot so I decided to try my hand at it. I'm glad you liked it!  
  
Disclaimer: I own nothing except for a handful of made up characters. Tolkien thought up the concept and, as such, it belongs to him. I'm just playing in his world. I'm broke and in college. All I own are Pointe Shoes.  
  
Niphredil did not like this new world---not in any way, shape, or form. It was not like her home. It was noisy and smelly and the people did not look as she did. She wanted to go back to her home with its trees and the people who looked like her. People were mean and she did not understand why.  
  
What had upset her most, out of everything that had taken place, was that people said she was here because her parents did not want her. That she had been sent away because she was strange, with weird ears and an odd lilt to her voice, and no one wanted a strange child.  
  
She tried to tell them that her mother had made her leave because she was in danger. They just laughed at her.  
  
The final straw had come when one of the workers had tried to take her necklace away from her. They said she was not allowed to have it because it was from her mother and no one was allowed to have anything from their parents here. Niphredil, scared that she was going to have the one thing that came from her home taken away and unable to make the humans go away, had climbed up a tree and refused to come down.  
  
They allowed her to keep her necklace but, from that day on, they kept a careful eye on her.  
  
Six months later...  
  
"I think we've found the child you're looking for," gushed a blond woman in her British accent.  
  
She was speaking to a couple both dressed in dark, conservative clothing. They looked with disdain at the children playing all around them.  
  
"I sincerely hope you have. We've traveled many miles to get here and fit this into our very busy social calendar," said the husband, a sandy haired man wearing a suit and tie.  
  
His name was Jay...Jay Jones.  
  
"Does it meet all our specifications?" questioned the wife.  
  
Like her husband she had sand colored hair. She was wore a dark colored skirt with a matching jacket and a white blouse. The mere presence of these children seemed to offend her in some way as she kept giving them dirty looks. Her given name was Katherine Jones but she preferred to be called Kay.  
  
The blond woman, a worker at this home for abandoned and unwanted children, seemed to be taken aback by the other woman's statement. She realized, with a sad shake of her head, that with the type of money these people had, they could ask such questions.  
  
"She's just half a year older than you requested but, other than that, she's just what you're looking for," the woman replied, trying to keep her tone light.  
  
"Now, her age may be a problem. We were prepared to offer a large sum of money for a year old child," Jay stated in a matter-of-fact voice.  
  
"Please don't be put off by her age, Mr. Jones. She's a wonderful little girl," the woman countered.  
  
Since her arrival, no one had shown any interest in the child in question. That as attributed to the fact no one could quite figure out what this child was. She was smarter than the others her age and had shown a strange grace about her.  
  
"Is she unusual enough?" Kay asked stiffly.  
  
That was the key to whether or not they were going to take this child. Adopting unusual, foreign children was all the rage in their Westchester, New York community. This was the reason the Jones' had traveled all the way to London. They'd been told, by someone on the look out for a child for them, that a highly unusual little girl had been located.  
  
"Very, even for our standards," the blond answered, "She's about a year and a half old but amazingly coordinated, speaks very well, and is quite bright."  
  
The blond woman led the couple to a vast play yard. It was a bright, warm day and all the children were outside enjoying it.  
  
"Let's see, where is she?" the worker wondered, aloud.  
  
"Over there serving her time out. We just got her out of a tree, again," answered her fellow worker.  
  
She followed his pointed finger to a lone finger sitting at a picnic table.  
  
"Is she disobedient? I want a child who will listen and obey whatever I say," Jay snarled.  
  
"Oh no" the woman answered, coming to the little girl's defense, "she listens very well. It's just that she likes to climb trees and we don't want her to get hurt."  
  
She failed to mention, though, that the child liked to climb trees because she claimed that the trees could speak to her. There was no need to ring that quirk up now and, besides, the child would eventually grow out of it.  
  
The worker walked over to the picnic table and took a long look at the little girl sitting there. She wore denim coverall shorts with flowers on both cuffs and shoulder straps. A few more flowers were sewn onto the pockets of the coveralls. Underneath the coveralls, she wore a leaf green, short sleeved t-shirt. Underneath the table were white tennis shoes and the little girls ink colored hair was pulled into a messy ponytail.  
  
"Munchkin, I'd like you to meet the Joneses'," the worker said in a soft voice.  
  
The little girl looked up at the couple, regarding them with dark eyes.  
  
"Hello, how are you?" she said, her voice formal.  
  
She, then, went back to watching the swans that were paddling around in a pond in the park across the way. She liked swans; they reminded her of the boats at home.  
  
"What's her name?" Jay hissed to the worker.  
  
"Ask her," the worker suggested, "You're the one looking to adopt her."  
  
"My name is Kay and this is my husband Jay. What's your name?" Kay asked, speaking as slow as molasses.  
  
Turning her attention away from the swans and back towards the couple, she gave the human woman a questioning look. Just because she was little, it did not mean she was not smart and could not understand what she was saying  
  
"It is very nice to meet you. My name is Niphredil," she said, after babbling something in a strange, musical language.  
  
"What was that?" Kay asked the worker.  
  
"Niphredil---that's what she likes to be called, not Fred, Nippy, Dilly or anything like that---has her own little language she likes to speak," the worker said with a smile.  
  
"We'll just have to break her of that, if we decided to take her," Kay commented to her husband.  
  
"That is a very pretty name," Jay commented in the same molasses slow voice, "Do you know what it means?"  
  
The little girl shrugged and went back to watching her swans. She was trying to figure out a way to get them to come over to the fence so she could see if they really looked like the carvings on the boats at home  
  
Kay, with her discerning eye for jewelry, spied something glittering from around the child's neck.  
  
"What's that you've got around your neck?" Kay questioned in a falsely interested tone.  
  
Niphredil pulled her necklace out of her t-shirt, watching the light play off its surface.  
  
"It is mine," she said, sounding slightly angry, "my nana gave it to me. You can not have it."  
  
She turned away from Jay and Kay, stuffing the item back into her t-shirt.  
  
Kay, meanwhile, turned to Jay who looked to the woman who had brought them over to Niphredil.  
  
"Don't you take things like that away from them?" he bit.  
  
"We've tried countless times but he won't let us. Other than that one item, she never says 'boo' about her parents or her nana," the worker replied.  
  
They couple was about to start arguing with the worker-woman when a strange sounding song filled the air. The three adults looked around, trying to locate the source of the odd sounding melody.  
  
They found the source sitting a bit away.  
  
Niphredil had wandered away from the bench and was sitting in the grass near the surrounding fence. At the fence were two large, white swans. Somehow the little girl's singing had attracted the birds to her.  
  
She looked over her shoulder, giving the worker an innocent smile.  
  
"See, she is very unusual," the worker said.  
  
"Where do we sign?" asked Kay, determined to take the strange little singer home with her. 


	7. Le Memorie

AN: HAPPY MONDAY EVERYONE! The reason for my somewhat good mood...Spring Break is next week. Of course, I'm not going anywhere because of homework and dance lessons but it'll be nice not to have Biochemistry and Physics for a whole week. Anywho, Thank you all for your reviews. Please, keep them coming! All of you are the best!

Kerla: I'm sorry for the slow updating. I have very evil professors this semester. She's going to find a rather unique way to survive in this world with her new parents.

Saralitazie: I hope your week was good. I can assure you Niphredil will most likely be fine. Nothing too bad is going to happen to her.

hobbitgirl11: Here's more! You'll learn more about the Jones family very soon.

LalaithoftheBruinen: It's sort of the same idea except without the puppy. This time it's a little, all be it elven, kid.

sunni07: Yeah, not the nicest reason to want to adopt a kid. They're not all that moral though, as you'll soon learn. I promise nothing too awful is going to happen to Niphredil.

LadyJadePerendhil: First off, good catch! Westchester, NY is indeed the home of The X-Men. I'm a hopeful genetic engineer so I'm fascinated by The X-Men. There may be one tiny X-Men cameo but it's going to be a made up character. I'm glad you like Niphredil.

pixie88: Things are about to get more interesting for Niphredil, as you'll soon see. She's now stuck with truly Muggle parents.

PixiePea000: Nothing too awful, I can tell you that much. The rebels want to know if you'd like to be unplugged and if you need protection from the Smithies. Well, all but one that is. He's not going to be around much longer. By the way GOLLUM and watch out for Agent Elrond Smith and dress wearing Neo. 

Disclaimer: I own nothing except for a handful of made up characters. Tolkien thought up the concept and, as such, it belongs to him. I'm just playing in his world. I'm broke and in college. All I own are Pointe Shoes.

"I didn't do it," protested a six year old Niphredil, "it wasn't me!"

"Who did it then?" questioned Jay, coming nose to nose with the little elven girl.

"It was Jane and James. I didn't do anything," Niphredil answered, "I was outside playing in the trees and they broke the lamp with the rocks."

She was telling the truth but she knew Jay wasn't going to believe her. Everything that went wrong in the house was her fault. If something was out of place, blame Niphredil. If something broke, well that troublemaking Niphredil was probably involved. A rude comment? Dollars to doughnuts, it was Niphredil who had said it.

It had become like this ever since Kay had the twins. The twins, Jane and James, were three year old terrors and the biological children of Jay and Kay. They'd been born when Niphredil was three years old.

The twins were terrors on wheels, causing nearly all of the havoc that Niphredil was blamed for. She didn't hate them for it. They just didn't understand. Like Kay didn't understand why Niphredil had flat out refused to call her "mom" and Jay "dad" or why she, herself, didn't understand why the twins called their grandmother "nana."

"I'm sure they did," Jay commented, snidely, "I can't believe you'd want to place the blame on two good little children. You're a bad seed, you know that. That's why your parents didn't want you. They saw how rotten you were."

That was Jay's major defense against Niphredil. When it doubt, bring her parents up. The elven child clung to the fact Jay was lying like Jane clung to her ratty purple blankie. She wasn't bad and her mother wanted her, she had heard her mother say something just like that.

"Get out of my sight, brat," Jay spat.

Niphredil ran out of the room, heading for the back yard and the safety of one of the biggest trees in the yard. Up in the trees she was safe. They were big and strong, something she wasn't. They could protect her from Jay's words and from Kay's scrutiny.

A few days had passed since Jay's little argument with Niphredil. She now found herself being dragged down one of the long blocks in the Westchester neighborhood she lived in.

"Where are we going, Jay?" she questioned in a small voice.

He stopped in his tracks, glaring at the sweat suit clad child he was leading.

"For the millionth time, Freddy, I'm taking you out," he spat, "Are you deaf or just stupid?"

He didn't wait for her to answer. There was no need when the answer was so obvious to him. She was just a stupid little girl whose usefulness and worth had run out long ago. They only kept her around because the neighbors would talk if they got rid of her.

Niphredil, meanwhile, heaved a great sigh. She disliked nicknames of any kind. Her name was Niphredil and that's what she liked to be called. It was her name, after all.

The pair stopped in front of a glass windowed storefront. Inside were row upon row of white clad figures standing in neat rows. Different colored sashes adorned the waists of nearly all the white clad people. The rest of the room was sparse, almost utilitarian in nature.

With a rough shove, Jay pushed Niphredil through the door and into the building.

"I'm here to register this thing for classes," Jay said to the shocked looking woman sitting at the front desk.

The woman pushed her huge glasses up the bridge of her nose and gave Niphredil the good once over. If she saw something she liked or disliked, she didn't say anything.

"Here you go, sir," she said, handing Jay a sheaf of papers, "if you hurry, she can join the class that just started. They're all her level."

With a flourish, Jay filled out the papers he had been handed and returned them to the lady with a wad of bills.

"I'll be back for her later," Jay said, walking out and leaving Niphredil to face whatever this situation was alone.

"Come on, kitten, let's get you ready," the woman with the glasses said, looking down at Niphredil and feeling sorry for her.

"Ready for what?" Niphredil asked nervously.

"Your first class of course," the lady replied, handing Niphredil a bundle of white clothing and a white sash.

The elven child found herself, moments later, standing before a huge man. He looked down at Niphredil, black bearded face a few feet from her own.

"What's your name?" he asked, in a gruff voice.

This little girl, with her hair in a braid and wide, frightened eyes, didn't seem like the type who would make it very far or last very long in his class. Then again, there had been a few surprises when it came to his students.

"Niphredil," she replied, in a tiny voice.

The man laughed and said, "Well, Niphredil, I'm Doc. Welcome to Tae Kwan Do."

He looked at his class, filling in the entire room.

"Move over Angie, let her stand next to you," he said, pointing to a spot on the floor.

Niphredil took the spot and stood just like all the others. She had a funny feeling she wasn't going to like this activity and that Jay had made her do this as a form of punishment.

**_Years Later..._**

Fourteen year old Niphredil sat against the wall in the auditorium of the local private school. Sitting next to her, almost incongruous in appearance, was another female. Though the other was Jane's age, she was the only friend Niphredil had in this world. The two had something in common, something very strange.

Both were outcasts in the local Girl Scout Troop.

"What's your act, Hope?" Niphredil questioned the young girl sitting next to her.

Hope was a tiny, frail looking child with bright hazel eyes and a head of mousy brown hair. No one in the troop liked her because her mother taught and she attended a local boarding school instead of the local public or private school.

"I'm going to sing, of course," she answered, "Reflections by Christina Aguilera. It's from the Disney movie Mulan so it covers the requirement for this year."

Niphredil laughed knowingly. Hope never did anything without a reasons and she had a good guess as to why she had chosen that particular song.

"What are you doing?" the tiny girl asked.

"You'll see," Niphredil, mysteriously replied, "Let's just say Jay and Kay aren't going to be happy with me, again."

"Then again," she mentally added, "when are they ever."

"And here to sing 'Once Upon a December' from the movie Anastasia is Niphredil Jones," called Miss Fran the Cadette/Senior Girl Scout Leader and an all around scatterbrain.

Niphredil took the stage, walking over to the microphone. She wore a long dress, cream colored, and her feet were bare. The dress was a stark contrast to her very long, inky colored hair. Around her neck, sitting on the outside of the dress, was the star shaped snowflake she always wore. Her one reminder of who she was.

She had chosen this song for one reason and one reason only. This song had a very particular meaning to her. It seemed to be describing her life. Her mind, as of late, had been torn. The part of her that was still firmly entrenched in Middle Earth reminded her constantly that she was a half elven maiden of a house with a long lineage. The other part of her mind had started to believe Jay. Maybe her mother wasn't really in any danger and had given her away because she did not want her any more. Perhaps she had made up the story about elves and wizards to make herself feel better.

As she sang, she found that memories invaded her mind, memories that had found their way into her dreams. The song spoke to her in ways that she couldn't truly comprehend. It was almost as if the song, with its haunting melody was written for her.

She remembered golden trees and people with fair faces. There were swans and it was always pleasant there. It was never too hot and never to cold. She remembered being happy and carefree.

There was always a woman in her dreams and a child. The two were happy living in these woods. She recalled being wanted and being loved. She had never had a cruel word spoken in her direction.

She wanted to know why she remembered these things. She wanted to know, in the worst way, the truth behind the images her mind was showing her. Was she really ever wanted? Did someone actually miss her?

She remembered horses and riders. Yet, unlike the horses Jane and James rode, these riders had no saddles. They ride swiftly, leading their mouths with musical sounding words.

She felt like this place was not her home. Her home was someplace else, someplace far away from all the noise and the foul smells and the mean people. She could not remember how to get back there, though.

The song ended and the crowd politely applauded. Content with her song, Niphredil darted off to get changed. There was something else she had to do.

"Returning to the stage to act out a routine to "Chateau" from The Matrix Reloaded, is Niphredil Jones," Miss Fran read, stumbling over the title of the piece.

Again Niphredil took the stage. This time she wore just a simple white karate outfit belted around the middle with her black belt. Tucked into the belt was a long wooden sword.

The first few classes had been rough but, as time passed, Niphredil had fallen in love with the martial arts. The almost dance like motions of two people sparring had captured her imagination and had a very familiar quality to them.

She had stuck with the martial arts, much to Jay and Kay's dismay. They had thought it to be a punishment for Niphredil. They never came to any of her competitions or to any of her promotion ceremonies but she didn't care. She was happier that way.

She bowed to the gathered crowd and faced her imaginary opponent. Then the fun started. She became a flurry of motion, of arms and legs moving in time with the music against an assailant only she could see. At one point she pulled the sword from her belt and began to use that as both a prop and a weapon. All the while she had a wide smile on her face. Jay and Kay wanted her to stick with her singing and, while she loved to sing, this felt right too.

The show ended and Niphredil walked over to Jay, Kay, and the twins. She was still clad in her karate uniform, sword still at her side.

"You are a totally and utter disgrace," Jay said, find your own way home.

They left Niphredil standing, mouth agape, in the middle of the auditorium. She had no way to get home, unless Hope's parents were still there or she could walk the twenty or so blocks by herself in the dead of night.

She sighed and set about looking for Hope and Hope's parents.


	8. Ammettere

AN: Hi everyone! I hope everyone is having a good week? I'm on Spring Break and, thought I have homework to do, I'm slightly happy. It's always a good treat not to have t go to Biochemistry and Physics for a whole week. I like school and everything but I need a break from my Biochemistry professor. Anyway, I'm digressing, thanks for all your reviews everyone! I really and truly appreciate them. They make typing this story out worth it! I can't thank you guys enough! You rock like a box of socks, as my little sister has been known to say.  
  
LadyJadePerendhil: Middle Earth is coming up very, very soon. The War of the Ring is most certainly over and Aragorn and Arwen have gotten married. It's just a matter of time now.  
  
Saralitazie: Well, they aren't very nice people at all and I'm glad you don't like them. I'm going to make an attempt to have fun over my Spring Break, as long as it doesn't snow again here in the Big Apple, I'll be happy.  
  
Lindiel Eryn: Oh wow! I didn't even realize the whole Hope/Aragorn/Estel thing until you brought it up! I'm glad you like how she's into both the martial arts and singing. This is the same Niphredil from the other story.  
  
pixie88: You'll get to see what life for young Niphredil was like, eventually. She's going to run into someone, eventually, that she can talk to about it. Things will get better soon for her.  
  
sunni07: Thanks for the compliment. You may say that right now and as many times as you'd like. I'm updating right now!  
  
LalaithoftheBruinen: I have this odd deal with Elrond. One of my other favorite movie trilogies is The Matrix Trilogy and the guy who plays Elrond is in those movies as a character named Agent Smith. Both characters are remarkable similar in that they seem to be not very fond of the human race. Agent Smith calls the human race a virus, which would explain why Elrond isn't keen on Arwen marrying Aragorn. Elrond is going to show up sooner or later and might run into his granddaughter. Here's my next chapter!  
  
Elainor: Thanks for the review and the compliment. I'm glad you dislike the Joneses.   
  
hobbitgirl11: I'm happy you liked the song. It seemed to fit, when I was typing out that chapter. I was unsure if anyone had ever heard of it though.  
  
Disclaimer: I own nothing except for a handful of made up characters. Tolkien thought up the concept and, as such, it belongs to him. I'm just playing in his world. I'm broke and in college. All I own are Pointe Shoes.  
  
The citadel was eerily silent. Footfalls echoed down the hall and breathing made a sound akin to a file moving over wood. The High King of the United Kingdom of Gondor and Arnor trudged down the hall. He had just come from a council meeting where everything from the state of the kingdom's crops to an upcoming visit of dignitaries from the Riddermark had been discussed.   
  
There had been no council meetings for the past few days, hence the reason for the length of this one meeting. The lack of meetings was a direct result of a visit---a visit from the Prince of Mirkwood and a small child. The child, an elf with the unlikely name of Emma, was the newly found Princess of Mirkwood and half-sister to the prince. The little elf had made an impression far larger than her stature on the king.   
  
Aragorn was intrigued by the young elven child. Something about her view of Middle Earth caught his interest.   
  
Unlike his somewhat jaded view, a result of seeing the worst Middle Earth had to offer, she was full of questions and very curious about Middle Earth and everything about it. She was a quick study, as most elves were, and had much of the grace of her woodland kin. What grace she had shone through the clearest when she danced. The little elf was a talented dancer, having abilities that were far greater than her very young age.   
  
Thinking about the young elf-child prompted him to mentally replay the closing moments of the council meeting.   
  
*FLASHBACK*   
  
"My Lord," the eldest of the men on the council prompted.   
  
Aragorn looked up from the papers he had been fixing in a neat pile. He was suppose to bring them back to his own study and look them over. That task would be accomplished, in time. Right now, he just wanted to go back to his quarters and see his wife.   
  
"Yes, sir," Aragorn said, addressing the councilman.   
  
"My Lord, we have a concern we would like to address," another councilman said.   
  
"Address this concern, sir. I will try my best to rectify it, if I can," Aragorn prompted, trying to keep exasperation from seeping into his voice.   
  
"The council would like to know if you and your wife have begun making plans for an heir," one of the younger council members stated.   
  
Aragorn was taken aback by the statement. He could not believe what he had just been asked. Concerns of the kingdom were one thing but this was his personal life. He had assumed that his personal life was---well---personal and of no concern to the council.   
  
"What my wife and I do is none of your business," Aragorn quipped.   
  
"But it is my Lord. What if you were to perish in a raid or by some illness? The kingdom would be left with out an heir to the throne," the eldest councilman countered.   
  
Aragorn shook his head sadly.   
  
"I am tired and I wish nothing more to go to my wife," he breathed. "To work on an heir?" the youngest of all the councilmen asked.   
  
"That is none of your business," the king said, finality in his voice.   
  
"At your age sir..." one councilman said, his protests continuing.   
  
"Do not concern yourself with my age or what my wife and I do. That is personal and of no concern to this council," Aragorn said, placing as much authority as possible in his voice.   
  
For a handful of moments, no one said anything or even dared to move.   
  
"Am I understood?" Aragorn questioned.   
  
"Yes, my Lord," murmured the councilmen.   
  
"I hope I am," Aragorn replied, far more sharply than he would have liked.   
  
He snapped up his papers and marched out of the room, bothered by the council's forwardness.   
  
*END FLASHBACK*   
  
Aragorn continued to walk, the noise from his boots filling the halls. He was still unnerved by what has transpired at the end of the meeting. He knew an heir was important and was vital to the kingdom. He and his wife were still newly married and he was still new to the role of king. An heir was the last thing on both their minds.   
  
Or was it?   
  
Since Emma's arrival, Arwen had become quiet, almost despondent. She had watched the child with guilt ridden eyes and far away expressions on her face. She benefited Emma with small sad smiles. Her mind wandered, and not just to the place of elvish dreams. She was not sleeping, not even resting in the accepted elvish style. Something was bothering her but, every time he inquired about it, she would push him away. She had told him she was not sure what was bothering her and that it would pass.   
  
It was not passing though. Legolas and Emma had been gone for some time now. Her condition, whatever it was, appeared to be persisting and gaining strength.   
  
He could not figure out why Emma had stirred up such a reaction in his wife. There seemed to be no real reason for it.   
  
Aragorn entered into his quarters. The room was quiet, the only source of light being the fire burning in the hearth. His wife was no where to be found. Leaving the sheaf of papers on a near by table, Aragorn went off to find his wife.   
  
He walked from room to room not finding his wife. She was not in his study or in the bedroom or any room for that matter.   
  
Walking outside, for a moment, he found his wife sitting in one of the sprawling gardens. She appeared to be lost in thought.   
  
He walked over, using his skills as a ranger to mask his approach. Even if her acute hearing picked up on his approach, she made no motion to acknowledge it.   
  
"Arwen," he breathed, taking the seat next to her.   
  
She looked up, a fleeting despondent look passing over her face but remaining in her eyes.   
  
"When did you return?" she asked, sounding confused.   
  
"Just now. Arwen, for the love of all that is good and scared in this world, can you please tell me what troubles you," Aragorn pleaded.   
  
She glanced at her husband, avoiding his gaze. She stared at her hands instead.   
  
One of his hands swam into her view, covering her own hands, stopping them from moving. The other lifted her chin up. Eyes met and she tried to shy away.   
  
"Arwen, please. I want to help you but I cannot help you if you do not tell me what is bothering you," Aragorn pleaded, turning her face so that she was looked right in his eyes.   
  
"Do you promise that, no matter what I tell you, you will not hold it against me?" Arwen, slowly, said.   
  
The time was right, she had decided, to clear the air between them. There was a secret she held and had held for many years. Though she thought about the other person, a soul she had not seen in several years, nearly every day, there was no easy way for her to say anything about it.   
  
Most of what she was feeling was guilt---guilt for not telling the truth, for not being able to own up to her actions, and for not taking care of her responsibilities. These feelings had been dredged up from seeing her husband interact with her friend's very young sister. Her own would have been just a bit older than her.   
  
"Of course. Whatever is bothering you, I promise to help you through it,' Aragorn promised.   
  
Arwen sighed and asked, "Do you remember that day we fought and you kissed me? You recall what transpired, I hope."   
  
"Aye, I remember that day....everything about that day. Why do you ask?" Aragorn replied, his mind drifting back to that day.   
  
*FLASHBACK*   
  
"Where are you going?" a voice called.   
  
"I ride out with the rising of the sun, Arwen. I told you this already," a younger Aragorn told the elven maiden.   
  
"You said that you were staying. I do not want you to leave," Arwen said, approaching the ranger.   
  
The two were just outside his own room. She had come down to talk to him; to plan what they were going to do with his time in Rivendell. She had forgotten that there would be no time. He would be leaving within hours of his arrival.   
  
"I must go Arwen. Someone has to protect the Shire. This duty falls on me," Aragorn said, trying to calm the elven woman.   
  
"It is not fair," she protested, placing her hands on hips, "Tell my father you can not go."   
  
"I must," Aragorn said.   
  
What started out as a polite conversation escalated into a full fledged argument. She did not want him to go, not now not ever. He tried to tell her that he had to go; it was his duty as Isildur's heir.   
  
"You are acting immaturely," Arwen yelled.   
  
"I am acting immaturely?!," Aragorn countered.   
  
He was running out of logical arguments and the elven maiden seemed to be just getting started.   
  
"I will show you immature," Aragorn called.   
  
He stalked over, not caring about how his boots sounded on the stone floor. He kissed the elven maiden on the lips. He knew the bounds that had been set by her father but he was relatively young, to the elves just a child, and knew nothing else to. It was rash and foolish; he knew that to be true, but it seemed like the best course of action.   
  
She looked shocked by the ranger's rash action and responded by kissing him back. Two could play at this game and she had every intention of showing him up.   
  
From a simple kiss, things escalated and lead to his quarters...   
  
*END FLASHBACK*   
  
Aragorn shook himself free of the memory.   
  
"I remember that day, everything that transpired on it," Aragorn admitted, none to proud of his actions.   
  
On that day, the two of them had flouted her father's decree so badly that the two of them had made a silent agreement never to speak of it again. Both were ashamed by their actions.   
  
"Please do not be upset with me," Arwen pleaded.   
  
"Why should I be upset with you?" Aragorn questioned.   
  
"Something came of that day, Aragorn," Arwen said, carefully.   
  
She took a deep breath and let it out, centering herself. What she had to tell him, the reason behind her sudden downturn in disposition, was not going to be easy for her to say and him to hear.   
  
"I know the council has been discussing an heir. There is no real need for that discussion. You already have an heir of sorts," she stated.   
  
For the second time that day, Aragorn was shocked. His wife had just told him he was a father. He had a child, one he had not known about. He was not sure if he should be angry with his wife or hurt that he had felt she could not tell him.   
  
He found he could not bring himself to be truly angry, seeing how hard it had been for Arwen to tell him that much. Hurt was easily felt as this was a breech of the trust that existed between the two of them. He could not understand why she had hidden this from him for so long.   
  
"I have an heir?" he croaked.   
  
"You have an heir of sorts," Arwen corrected, "the child is a female."   
  
"I have a daughter?" Aragorn asked, not really believing what he was hearing.   
  
Arwen nodded, feeling as if a great weight had been lifted from her shoulders. Her secret was out. In her mind, her daughter had a father. Though, neither new father nor young daughter knew of each other in the real sense.   
  
"What is her name?" Aragorn questioned, a strange warmish feeling washing over him.   
  
He could not explain why Arwen's statement had made him feel that way. It was a strange feeling, completely unexpected. The though of having a child, a baby, scared the Ranger turned king but the idea of an older child brought about stranger feelings.  
  
"Niphredil," Arwen replied, "there is just one thing you must know. She was born before I gave up my immortality."   
  
Aragorn looked up confused by the last part of that statement. He did not understand how immortality played into the situation at hand.   
  
"How does that fit in?" Aragorn questioned.   
  
"She was born before I chose a mortal life. She is half-elven, the doom of choice lies before her," Arwen said, her voice low.   
  
"I have a daughter---I have an elven child," Aragorn processed.   
  
His mind was fully of fragmented thoughts. Fathoming the fact he had a daughter was one thing. Fathoming the fact said daughter could, in theory, posses elven immortality was something very different.   
  
Reasonable thought gave way to pure emotion. He needed to know something, a something that was gnawing at the back of his mind.   
  
"Where is she now? Why have you not told me about her before?" Aragorn questioned.   
  
"The red-headed wizard, Patrick is his name, brought her to his world. She was with me for about a year, living under the eaves of the mallorn trees in Lothlorien. I was afraid to tell you. I did not know how you would react," Arwen admitted.   
  
Aragorn shook his head, sadly. Part of her response was expected; part was not.   
  
"I would not have been angry with you; I could never be angry with you. I am hurt, more than anything, that you did not tell me sooner. Tell me, what does she look like?" Aragorn responded.   
  
It bothered him that he was not able to picture was his child looked like. Would she be in possession the features of the Eldar or would she appear to be Edain? Could she look like a mingling of both as half-elven were known to appear?   
  
"She is dark haired and dark eyed. She does have elven ears, if that is what you are referring to. Mind you, when last I saw her, she was but a child. She could look very different now," Arwen replied.   
  
"Can we retrieve her?" Aragorn wanted to know.   
  
Though she was just a thought to him, an idea in his head presented to him by his wife, he wanted to see this child, to learn what she was like.  
  
Arwen looked, frankly, surprised. She had not expected this kind of response from her husband.   
  
"You are not angry with me?" she asked, slowly.   
  
"I am not angry with you. Surprised and somewhat hurt but never angry. We have just gone through this. Can we retrieve her?" Aragorn asked.   
  
"I think we can. You would have her here with us?" Arwen said, sounding surprised.   
  
"I would, she belongs here. She will need to decide her fate but that will be later. I want to see her, to meet her," Aragorn admitted.   
  
"Truly?" Arwen questioned.   
  
"Truly. She is my daughter after all," Aragorn said, his voice belling the attachment he was already feeling.   
  
"I am sure Gandalf will be able to aid us in this endeavor," Arwen prompted.   
  
Aragorn stood up, pulling Arwen up with him.   
  
"We shall send a message out for Gandalf. I want to meet this child as soon as possible," Aragorn announced.   
  
Arwen smiled, feeling better than she had in days. She would be reunited with her daughter---a daughter who now had a father. A father, who seemed to be in love with the fact he had a daughter.  
  
"It will not be an easy adjustment for her, from what I have learned of Patrick's Muggle World. It is very unlike this one," Arwen stated.  
  
"Then, we will send a message to Mirkwood as well," Aragorn suggested, "I do believe young Princess Emma will be able to aid us in making the transition an easy one."  
  
The pair left the garden and began to make the most basic of all preparations to bring a certain child back home where she belonged.  
  
(AN: This should clear up the summons at the ending of my other story!) 


	9. Tentare di Cambiare Idea

AN: Another week, another update. My break's over and it's back to school for me. Well, there's only about a month and a half left for my semester and then I'm free for the entire summer. Anyway, thanks for all of your reviews! I greatly appreciate them and I'm always surprised to get them.  
  
LadyJadePerendhil: I will try to answer all your questions by the end of it all. Niphredil might find her way to Middle Earth and a rescue mission will be involved soon. I'm glad you liked the way I tied the two stories together.  
  
pixie88: I'm happy you liked the way I tied the two stories together. I have this insane obsession with tying things together in different ways. You may get to see what happens when, and if, Niphredil gets home.  
  
A Monkey's Harp: Well, that's an interesting review! She may find her way away from Jay and Kay, eventually.  
  
hobbitgirl11: Actually, I got your review just before I left for dance classes. I understand the whole pressed for time because of dance thing. I'm nearly always just a bit late for my Tuesday night classes.  
  
Lindiel Eryn: I'll try to set up the time frame soon. Sorry, if I didn't yet! That's the one thing I think I forgot to do. Anyway, how Niphredil gets back (if she gets back) to Middle Earth will be revealed eventually.  
  
sunni07: Well, I had an uneventful Spring Break. Unless you count being dragged by my sister to see "Jersey Girl" and getting sick events. There may be just a bit more of Jay and Kay in the future. They're going to try to get their last kicks in.  
  
PixiePea000: Well, that rebel is on his way out anyway because he wasn't very nice to the other rebels. They'd do away with them if they turned into a certain Agent Elf. See, we're updating now! Anyway, GOLLUM and watch out for Agent Elrond Smith (the rebel offer still stands).  
  
LalaithoftheBruinen: It's ok. I'm stuck on a once a week updating thing because of school. Here's the next chapter, fresh off the preverbal presses.  
  
Midnight-Insomniac1532: I use to take Tae Kwan Do and I got up to my brown belt before my instructor decided to retire because of a hip replacement. Do you do martial arts?  
  
Disclaimer: I own nothing except for a handful of made up characters. Tolkien thought up the concept and, as such, it belongs to him. I'm just playing in his world. I'm broke and in college. All I own are Pointe Shoes.  
  
Messages had been sent out and many of the necessary parties were on their way. Gandalf had been the most difficult to locate but he too had been found. His role in the events to come was no small one indeed.  
  
Though both Aragorn and Arwen were excited about the prospect of their wayward daughter returning home, there were some that were not. Many of the city's elder councilmen did not deem it wise for the king to flaunt his, so- called, transgressions.  
  
These feelings seemed to follow the lines of everyday business in the Kingdom of Gondor.  
  
"I do believe that is it, my good men," Aragorn stated, preparing to take his noontime meal someplace far away from his councilmen, "I will see you all soon."  
  
"My lord," one of the eldest members called, "We have arranged for you to take your meal here today. There are many pressing matters we must discuss."  
  
With a heavy sigh, Aragorn sat back down and watched as several pages trooped in with enough food to feed a small army. He had a funny feeling he knew where all of this was headed.  
  
"We have discussed all we need to discuss for now. I do believe whatever is left can wait," Aragorn broached.  
  
"Nay, my lord, this is a subject that must be dealt with right away. It concerns the very survival of both your kingdom and your position on its throne," added a second councilman.  
  
"Out with it then," the king prompted, making a halfhearted attempt to not let his exasperation seep into his voice.  
  
All eyes fell on the eldest of all the councilmen. The old man took a deep breath, preparing to present the concerns of his fellows. They had hoped that his age and wisdom would allow their point to prevail over that of their king.  
  
"Word has reached us that you are planning to make an attempt to reach out to a different world to bring home a child you did not know you had," the elder man started.  
  
"We have been through this more times than I can possible recall. Yes, I am well aware of the fact you are unhappy with what I am doing. Yes, I know that you believe I have lost my mind by endeavoring to contact this 'other world', as you call it. What I do not understand is why this concerns you so. Please, help me to understand these feelings," Aragorn interjected.  
  
The outburst seemed to unsettle the gathered council members. A tense sort of silence filled the small room, broken only by the shifting of papers or bodies in their seats.  
  
"It is just that," the elder man began, "no where in our history is an heir produced outside of marriage. To bring this child here will only cause others to see you as weak, as able to be seduced by even the simplest of things. We would like you to reconsider your rash actions. Forget she even exists, my lord, and focus on bringing the kingdom a proper heir."  
  
Aragorn shook his head ruefully. There were many days where he enjoyed his position as king. Then again, there were just as many days where he longed for his simpler life as a Ranger. Recently, the latter comprised most of his days.  
  
"I understand your fears but they are unfounded. I plan on continuing with my plans whether you approve of them or not," he stated.  
  
"But she is an elf!" exclaimed one of the younger men, "To have her kind here is unheard of!"  
  
Looking slightly ashamed by his outburst, the younger man added, "I am aware that your wife-the queen-is also of elven blood but it is widely known that she has forsaken her immortality to rule at your side. If you are unable to convince this child to forsake her immortality, then you will have an elven creature in the citadel. That can not happen."  
  
Aragorn was about to question his out burst, to allay any fears of elf- marked children in the city or horses left with knots in the manes and tired muscles, when a knock at the large door grabbed his attention. Thanking every lucky star for the diversion, Aragorn called for the doors to be opened.  
  
He recalled being told, by a very good friend, that he lived by his luck. It seemed, to Aragorn, that his luck was still with him.  
  
The two figures that strode---well, one strode while the other walked after trying to avoid the eyes that were on her---into the room were enough to silence the gathered councilmen.  
  
(AN: The idea of elf-marked children comes from a belief in England during the Middle Ages that blamed elves for everything from sudden deaths do to mysterious aliments [they believed the person was "elf shot' or struck with the poisoned arrow of an elf], birth defects [elf marked children], the suffering of a paralytic or deforming stroke [elf twisted], and even tangled hair [elf locks]. The whole idea of tired horses with knotted manes is an ancient attribute of pixies, which are kind of like elves.) 


	10. La Cospirazione

AN: Hi everyone! I hope everyone's having a good vacation but there are some of us who aren't on vacation. I have one meager day off this week (that's my Easter Break...a three day weekend). Anywho, Thanks a million for all the reviews I greatly appreciate them. All of you are the best!  
  
hobbitgirl11: What about Arwen and Gandalf? LOL! I happen to like chocolate pudding best of all! Thanks for your review!  
  
A Monkey's Harp: The council members are just a little bit set in their ways and traditions. Interesting new choice of pen name and the whole parenthesis within parenthesis actually happens sometimes in chemistry too. That gets annoying after a while because, once you use too many parenthesis, you have to move on to square brackets and then to curly brackets.  
  
kurleyhawk2: I'm sorry about the cliffhangers, I'm quite fond of them. Here's my update, as earliest as I can muster. I hope you like it.  
  
PixiePea000: The cliffhangers aren't my fault! Blame The X-Files and The Matrix Reloaded for them. We could but then it might get a little odd considering the whole "Free your Mind" thing. Don't know how they would take a man in a dress, for all intents and purposes, flying about. Anyway, GOLLUM and watch out for Agent Elrond Smith. VIVA LA REVOLUTION!  
  
sunni07: Let's just say a certain person is going to show up and really turn the council members on their ears. A few traditions will be broken in that process. I read about the elf-markings in this book my mom bought me for Christmas. It was a guide book for Harry Potter but I figured it fit in here.  
  
Midnight-Insomniac1532: My instructor use to tell us we were learning something called Blue Wave Tae Kwan Do. I'd love to get back into it but I don't have time. I'm glad you liked the chapter!  
  
LalaithoftheBruinen: You shall soon see who came in. Here's the next chapter, fresh off the hard drive!  
  
LadyJadePerendhil: I'm glad you liked the chapter! Reverse psychology is always fun, though, whenever I try to use it, it never works. The two who arrived in the throne room will be revealed relatively soon. Disclaimer: I own nothing except for a handful of made up characters. Tolkien thought up the concept and, as such, it belongs to him. I'm just playing in his world. I'm broke and in college. All I own are Pointe Shoes.  
  
Aragorn looked over the two figures that had just entered the council chamber. He knew both well, though one he had only met recently.  
  
Both figures bowed, the female holding out her skirts as she dropped into a well practiced curtsey. Aragorn watched, pleasantly amused by the entire show. He had known the older of these two long enough for forgo any type of positional formality. He knew these two were doing this for the benefit of the gathered council.  
  
"We have come from our father's realm on your behest, my lord," said the elder of the two figures, "What is it you would have my sister and I do?"  
  
"My good men, please take your leave. As you can see, my guests and I have very important matters to attend to. They have traveled a great distance in a short time in order to aid me and I would appreciate a meeting alone with them," Aragorn requested of the gathered council.  
  
It seemed that the two figures had startled the council members enough. They had not been expecting guests of their magnitude to arrive during their meeting and barge in unannounced.  
  
"As my lord wishes," sputtered a councilman as they ducked out of the room, shutting the door behind them.  
  
No sooner had the door closed, when all constraints of formality were dropped. Aragorn stepped around his wide desk, clasping the male on the shoulder and pulling the female into a tight embrace.  
  
"That was a very good show, Legolas, very good indeed," he commented, with a knowing smile.  
  
Legolas, crowned prince of Mirkwood, simply nodded his agreement. The elven prince was clad in browns and greens, atypical traveling attire of his woodland kin. He had been asked to come to aid in the rescue because of his knowledge of this other world. He was one of the only elves in Middle Earth who could boast some knowledge of its nature.  
  
He'd gone there several times before to check on, and, eventually, bring home the smaller figure standing next to him.  
  
"I can not bring myself to comprehend how you naturally fall into a curtsey, Emma. Be it elven grace or dancer's skill," Aragorn stated, speaking to the female figure.  
  
Emma blushed a bright red, a striking contrast to her silvery-white hair, and stared down at her traveling boots.  
  
The elven child, half-sister to the prince and an embarrassment to Mirkwood's king, was dressed in a manner quite similar to her older brother. She wore a nearly blue tunic and gray breeches. A brown vest, belt and boots completed her choice of outfit.  
  
"We have received your summons and I was only too glad to bring my sister and her foster parents with me. What aid do you require?" Legolas asked, taking a seat across from the king's and an apple from one of the trays.  
  
"Emma," Aragorn noted, as he took his own seat, "you are allowed to sit. You are no longer in your father's kingdom and are free to do as you please, within reason."  
  
"Thank you, sir," she replied, in her best formal voice.  
  
Within the boundaries of her father's kingdom, the elven child had been met with fierce resistance. Her father had no need to acknowledge her as his daughter, treating her as just another member of his kingdom. That included having to ask to do anything in his presence. It seemed, to her, that with her brother and his friends the story was different.  
  
She took the chair that stood next to her much older brother and, with a questioning glance, her own apple.  
  
"It is not so much aid that I require, than advice," Aragorn answered, "Arwen informed me that you know about my daughter and her situation."  
  
"I would have told you but I was told in confidence. A confidence I felt was not my place to break," Legolas informed his friend.  
  
"You have a daughter?" questioned Emma, not remembering meeting a daughter on her previous visit to the White City.  
  
"Aye, I do, little elf. She is just a bit older than you are, or so Arwen tells me," Aragorn replied.  
  
Emma looked perplexed, her gaze shifting from Aragorn to Legolas and back again. She knew she was missing a large part of this story. She could not recall hearing anything about someone around her age living in the citadel at the time of her visit or meeting this person.  
  
"That is a story for another day, Emma," Legolas said to his sister, trying not to be bothered by the look of disappointment that crossed her face, "I am sure Arwen would like to tell you it sometime."  
  
Emma nodded, accepting his answer.  
  
"Do I have to be here, then?" she questioned, hoping to get back out to her parents.  
  
Well, the two people she considered to be her parents. They were mortal, though her "mother" had spiritual roots in Middle Earth, and had adopted Emma when she was just a child.  
  
"Actually, you do. You have a very important role to play in the events that are to take place," Aragorn informed the very young elf.  
  
"You have not said what you are planning. If it has anything to do with those council men my sister and I scared out of here, then it must be something grim indeed," Legolas joked, bring the conversation around and back to its starting point.  
  
"You are aware that my daughter, like your sister, was taken out of Middle Earth by the portal-traveler Patrick. I intend to bring her back home," Aragorn stated.  
  
Four elven eyes went wide with shock. Neither elf in the room could believe what he or she had just heard. It was a good enough explanation as any for the expressions of the councilors who had beaten a hasty retreat. This was a city deeply rooted in tradition and what Aragorn was proposing went against many of those traditions.  
  
Suddenly, Legolas had a very good idea of what was being asked of him and of why he and his sister had been asked to the White City.  
  
"What would have us do?" he asked, offering his help in a roundabout way.  
  
Aragorn smiled, half knowing that his friend was going to be willing to aid him.  
  
"You know this Muggle World better than I, having been their to rescue Emma. I was hoping that you would be willing to take part in her rescue. I have already informed Gandalf of my intentions and he has promised to have the gates, as he calls them, set up for our use," Aragorn proposed.  
  
"It would be an honor, my friend," Legolas replied.  
  
"What about me?" Emma questioned, speaking up from her seat.  
  
The king gave a short laugh, knowing that Emma was part of the reason Arwen had opened up to him about Niphredil.  
  
"You are to play a very important role as well. Once my daughter gets here, she will not understand this world as you did when you first came here. I would like you to try and be her friend, teach her about this world as best you can. You have been through a very similar situation and will understand better than anyone else," Aragorn stated.  
  
Emma grew quiet for a moment, toying with the leave she wore around her neck. It had been a gift from her brother; a reminder of who she was and where she belonged during her final stay in the other world.  
  
"I will help you under one condition," Emma retorted.  
  
"That is no way to talk to a king, Little Elf," Legolas warned, not truly believing that his usually mild mannered little sister was challenging the high king.  
  
"Let the little one speak her mind," Aragorn countered, "Name your condition, my lady."  
  
Emma gave the king a smile. She knew exactly what her condition was going to be, having considered it as her brother spoke.  
  
"You have to promise to be nice to her and not to treat her as my real father treats me. He is not all that nice to me," Emma spoke.  
  
Aragorn had heard of Thranduil's, Lord of the Mirkwood elves, attitude towards his youngest child. He knew, from Legolas, that his acceptance of his role as her sire was a minimum. There was something like barley restrained hostility between Thranduil and Shannon, the woman Emma called "mother."  
  
"That is a fair condition, my lady. You have my word, as king, Ranger, and friend, that I will not treat my daughter as your real father treats you," he promised, "Do you accept my pledge?"  
  
Emma nodded and stated, "Then I would be more then glad to help you."  
  
"You did not have to do that. I am sure she was aware of the fact you would treat your own better than our father does," Legolas hissed to Aragorn.  
  
"I know, my friend, but I think the Little Elf needed to hear it aloud," the king retorted.  
  
Meanwhile, unbeknownst to a certain elven maiden living so far away from her home, her every motion was being followed, waiting for the right moment to bring her home.  
  
Back to her real family, world, and position. 


	11. Indesiderabile

AN: Another Monday, another update! I hope everyone had a most excellent Easter/Spring break. Mine would have been better if had been longer and I didn't have so much homework to do. Not that I'm complaining about the work. I really don't mind it. It's just that I don't get the whole theory behind giving homework during breaks. Maybe it's just me! Anyway, I know I always write something like this but you guys are the best. You make typing out this story worth it. I'm always shocked to see that people are reading and reviewing!  
  
sunni07: She'll get home eventually. Let's just say the first step into a wider universe has been taken for her. Emma and Thranduil's relationship is expanded in the sort of sequel to this story. He doesn't like her at all.  
  
hobbitgirl11: I'm glad you like this story! Now everyone is where they're suppose to be and the adventure can get underway.  
  
A Monkey's Harp: Thranduil's just a little cranky, so to speak. I'm happy you like Emma. She's a fun character to write. As for the chemistry thing, I'm a biology major (hoping to get into genetic engineering someday) and I've had to take every kind of chemistry known to man (and elf) kind. Chemistry's not so bad...it's just that my professor is an evil witch.  
  
LadyJadePerendhil: Good Guess! Legolas and Emma will play their parts in this little adventure soon. You shall soon see how much it takes to get Niphredil to go back home and how she acts when she gets there.  
  
Lindiel Eryn: Emma and Niphredil will get to meet eventually. I'll just say that the differences between the two may not play much of a role once they get to talking.  
  
arwen721: Thanks! Here's my next chapter!  
  
LalaithoftheBruinen: It's funny; I got your review just as I was working on this update! Here's the next chapter, fresh from the preverbal presses.  
  
Disclaimer: I own nothing except for a handful of made up characters. Tolkien thought up the concept and, as such, it belongs to him. I'm just playing in his world. I'm broke and in college. All I own are Pointe Shoes.  
  
It was early in the fall, with the chill winds just starting to sweep through the air. The leaves began their turning of colors, filling sidewalks and yards with vibrant colors. People came from miles around to "ohhhhhh" and "ahhhhh" at the turning leaves. Even those who lived in the small town of Salem Center came out to appreciate the particularly fine colors this year.  
  
Everyone, that is, except one person. She'd stopped going out unless she completely had to. It wasn't that she had no love for nature. In truth, she felt a kinship, some kind of deep down bond with the large trees that lined the streets and yards of her neighborhood. The roots of this bond, like the roots of the trees themselves, went deep and were so tangled up with other feelings that she was not sure she could discern from whence they came.  
  
Niphredil knew why she was so apprehensive about going out alone and laughed every time she thought about it. She felt was silly for someone like her, with her background in the marital arts, to be afraid to walk the streets alone, but afraid she was.  
  
Telling Jay and Kay about it was a moot point. They would not care anyway unless it was their own children in jeopardy. Niphredil just happened to be the fifth person in the car, an extra mouth to feed and body to clothe. With their ample money, it should not have posed a problem but Jay and Kay made sure she knew her role in their household.  
  
She just lived there, it was not her home. She was subordinate to Jane and James.  
  
Her only escapes, so to speak, were her weekly Girl Scout meetings where she could speak with Hope, her Tae Kwan Do classes, and school, of all places.  
  
It was going to and from those places that she discovered something that made her afraid to simply walk alone.  
  
Simply enough, it had started. Eyes watching her as she walked or a figure, sometimes an ancient looking man with a beard and a cane or a little girl with silvery-white hair holding the hand of someone who looked to be close kin, following her from place to place. At first, they said nothing to her, did nothing to her. They were just simply there no matter the time or place.  
  
Lately, though, it had escalated into something more. Whispered conversations that she knew she was meant to hear. Words that sounded vaguely familiar but in a langue she could not speak. Words that did not seem to belong together were put into context with one another---"home" and "Middle Earth" seemed to be among the most popular.  
  
She had told Hope about the figures that seemed to be following her. The tiny girl, in turn, told her own parents. They urged Niphredil to speak to the police but she knew Jay and Kay would not back her up. She was alone, in every sense of the word.  
  
It was on a fine fall day that Niphredil sat on the ultra expensive living room couch, her nose firmly planted in her chemistry text book and a set of headphones dangling around her neck. She had discovered when she was very young, that her hearing was rather acute and that her eyesight was beyond the normal 20/20 vision.  
  
"Freddy, don't you think Janie is going to be the cutest cowgirl at the ranch," Kay squealed, drawing Niphredil's attention away from her homework.  
  
Niphredil placed the book her lap and regarded both Kay and Jane for a few moments. Jane stood in the center of the room wearing too tight denim jeans and a tiny tank top that would have been big on a small child. "Or on Hope," Niphredil mused, suppressing a smile.  
  
Garish red cowboy boots were on her feet and a velour cowboy hair was on her head.  
  
Kay was sitting in a puffy armchair, beaming at the sight of her daughter.  
  
Niphredil heaved a sigh, wanting nothing more than to go back to her textbook. The dude ranch trip was a rite of passage all young students at the local school went through. Though it was nothing more than a trip to Upstate, New York to ride horses, it became a completion between the parents in the neighborhood. Parents spent, what Niphredil thought to be, ridiculous sums of money to buy clothing that was only going to get filthy in a day and never worn again.  
  
She shrugged the question off, not wanting to say anything either way, but replied with, "Please, Kay, do not call me Freddy. I do not like nicknames like that."  
  
Jay, who had been sitting across the room reading the New York Times, snapped his head up. He'd been looking for an opportunity to catch Niphredil in, what he referred to as, "the act." His hatred for his adopted child had not abated over time. To him, she was an embarrassment and a burden.  
  
"Why you ungrateful little witch! We give you food and clothing and shelter and, what do you give us in return? Backtalk! If I had my way, I'd take a strap and give that overly white complexion of yours a good reddening," he started.  
  
"I am going upstairs to my room. I will be back down later," Niphredil stated, cutting Jay off before he could say anything more.  
  
She'd heard his rants before-had grown up with them actually. They affected her like strong winds affected palm trees. She swayed under his bluster but never broke in a way similar to how palm trees swayed in hurricane force winds but never snapped in half.  
  
Snapping her text shut, she stalked up the stairs meaning to bang her feet on each step. No matter how hard she tried, though, no sound ever game. She moved with silent speed.  
  
Her room was far smaller than either James or Jane's rooms. It contained the basic furniture---a bed, dresser, and a stand to hold up her CD player. There was a closet off to one side and a few trophies lined the walls.  
  
Her favorite aspect of the room, though, was the window seat. It afforded her a view of nearly the entire neighborhood.  
  
Walking past her CD player, she turned it on without a thought. Then she settled herself on the window seat.  
  
"Now, that's ironic," she mused a song called "Who Am I?" filtered out of the speakers.  
  
Leaning her head against the wall, and trying not to sit on her hair, Niphredil began to consider the situation she had found herself in.  
  
There was no way should could not pretend she was not adopted. It was plain as day that she was not born into the Jones family.  
  
Jay and Kay, and their twin children, all had hair the color of sand and light blue eyes. They were not extraordinarily tall or in the best of shape. At best, they were ordinary, everyday figures, though they, themselves, though otherwise.  
  
In stark contrast, Niphredil was of medium height, certainly taller than Jane, and could be considered thinnish. Her hair was the color of black ink and her eyes were nearly the same shade. What's more, her ears came to slight points.  
  
The twins were average students, more interested in their social lives than in the learning process. She was rather the opposite; school taking precedence over socializing.  
  
Niphredil had been well aware, stemming from as far back as she could recall, that the Jones's did not like her. Jay was the keenest on showing his ill will for her. He made it a point to tell her that nobody loved her and that she was unwanted.  
  
As much as his words sunk in, they were equally rebuffed. She knew there had once been someone who had loved her and had made these feelings known to her.  
  
Those feelings were ones she had been wrestling with for a very long time. Twisting the necklace she always wore around her neck, the one she had since before her adoption, she considering why she had been wrestling with these feelings.  
  
"Maybe it has something to do with that dream I get every once and a while," she mused, closing her eyes.  
  
When things got really bad and she started to find that she lacked the ability to go on, a specific dream came to her. It was always the same dream without fail. In the dream there was a child and a woman. The woman cared for the child until someone came and took the child away.  
  
For some reason, she had always identified with the child in the dream. Like the dream child, she had been ripped from her parents.  
  
"It's just stress," she decided, "from studying too hard. I just need to relax, that's all."  
  
She had just started a chemistry class that was proving to be trickier than all the other science classes she had ever taken. Doing well in the class, in order to prove the professor she knew hated her wrong, was utmost in her mind.  
  
She glanced around the sparsely decorated room, eyes falling on a small clock she kept next to her bed.  
  
"Oh no," she breathed, "I'm going to be late."  
  
With a silent leap, she hopped off the windowsill and picked up the battered orange and blue gym back that sat by her door.  
  
Taking the stairs two at a time, she headed for the front door. There was no time to do anything but get to her destination. She'd miss all the fun if she was late.  
  
"Where do you think you're going, Fred?" Jay called, as he spotted her dash past.  
  
Silently skidding on the wooden floor, Niphredil walked over to the living room doorway. She was displeased with the face Jay had interrupted her dash from the house.  
  
"Tae Kwan Do, Jay. It is Doc's last class and we're doing something special for him," she replied.  
  
"Can you try to come home late, Freddy?" Kay questioned, "We're having guests over and we don't want them to see you here."  
  
"Sure thing," Niphredil called, making her way to the door, "You know, maybe I will not come home at all."  
  
(AN: The song "Who Am I?" is off of the soundtrack to The Animatrix and is used, I think, in the short "Kid's Story." I just stuck it in there because it just so happened to be what was playing on my CD player as I typed this.) 


	12. Furia Del Congo

AN: Happy Monday Everybody! I know Monday's are rough for everyone, especially those of us still in school. It's amazing what one day can do to an entire week! Anyway, I'm in a marginally happy mood for a Monday. I registered for my classes for next semester and I got all the classes I wanted, including a Creative Writing class that I've wanted to get into for a while. Please keep up with the reviews-good, bad, indifferent- I'm pretty sure I can use whatever you guys say next semester!  
  
Lindiel Eryn: I'm glad you liked the fact I had them spying on her. I figured she's a bit tougher than Emma so an all out direct approach wouldn't work. She also knows karate so that makes her just a bit more difficult to approach starting out.  
  
hobbitgirl11: Great scene! Both my mom and I call my younger sister "The Pip" because she's kind of like Pippin sometimes. My mom and sister, on the other hand, call me either "Gollum" or "The Gollum" for lots of reasons. I'm glad you like both the character and the fact you got to get into her head for awhile.  
  
sunni07: They're not very nice people at all. They just lack any redeemable qualities. Well, that is, if you're Niphredil. Anywho, some action is coming up. I hope you like it!  
  
A Monkey's Harp: People whose opinions change on a whim aren't the best type of people. I've known quite a few people like that (actually, I still dance with a few of them). Thanks for the comment about the dialogue. I reread it and it did sound a bit strange. I always appreciate a little constructive criticism, especially now that I'm going to take creative writing.  
  
kurleyhawk2: Here you go! Another chapter! I'm glad you like my story.  
  
LalaithoftheBruinen: Wait no more! Here's the next chapter! You'll soon see what she encounters either to or from her karate class.  
  
LJP: Thanks for pointing out my shoddy spelling. That's what happens when one updates dangerously close to 4 AM. My spelling starts to degenerate around 3 AM which isn't fun because I get the best ideas then. She'll meet up with the Middle Earth folk soon enough. Let's just Emma is acting under orders from both her brother and Aragorn.  
  
Disclaimer: I own nothing except for a handful of made up characters. Tolkien thought up the concept and, as such, it belongs to him. I'm just playing in his world. I'm broke and in college. All I own are Pointe Shoes.  
  
Embolden, but knowing she was going to get an earful from Jay when she came home, by her parting comment, Niphredil walked out of the huge house. She did not have to think about getting to the dojo where she took Tae Kwan Do classes. Her feet knew their own way.  
  
As she walked, she felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand on edge. Everything around her seemed to harbor a hidden threat, acting as a hiding place for the group of people that appeared to be stalking her. There was an unease in her usually casual movements, her guard staying on high alert at all times. She knew she could protect herself just enough to get away from an offending party but that was not enough to convince herself that she was safe out in the darkened streets.  
  
"Stop it, Niphredil," she admonished herself, feeling foolish for even thinking about being afraid.  
  
She knew this neighborhood like the back of her hand, after all these years. The streets were as familiar as the locations her dreams were set in which unnerved her slightly. It seemed to blur the lines between the real world and the dream world...a feeling she was not all together comfortable with.  
  
Trying to shake the unpleasant thoughts out of her head, lest they increase their hold there, she started to consider other things.  
  
She was amazed, as usually, that the Jones's allowed her to take Tae Kwan do at all. They-well, mostly Jay-like to see her as miserable as humanly possible. She suspected that their allowance was due to the fact it got her out of their house for a short while, giving them the illusion that they were a normal family.  
  
On more than one occasion, she'd been told she was a blemish on their family, a crude mark that marred the perfection of their household.  
  
Niphredil longed to tell them just how wrong their assumptions were. She was not the cruel, mean spirited one. That award was reserved for the twins. They made a living picking on people smaller than them. One of their favorite targets had been Hope until she had both left the school they attended and Niphredil took her under her wing.  
  
Niphredil continued to walk, following her feet. There was a huge manor she always passed on her way to class. It was one of the most remarkable features of the small town. Most towns could boast good public or private schools. Salem Center could boast loudest of all, that they had one of the most highly regarded boarding schools in the country. It was an exclusive school, its students being recruited from all around the world.  
  
Niphredil allowed herself a small smile as she passed it. Jay and Kay had tried their hardest to get the twins into the school, claiming they were more gifted than the other students. The school's headmaster, a bald man confined to a wheelchair, just regarded them with a kindly smile and told them "no."  
  
Niphredil knew only one person who attended that school. That person being Hope.  
  
Clearing the school's large gate, Niphredil spotted two old, tired eyes watching her. Following her line of sight, the pair of eyes grew into an old man. Not just any old man but the same old man she had seen nearly everyday.  
  
He turned his wizened gaze on Niphredil, making her feel very small. She hadn't the vaguest of ideas of what his intentions might even be. He never said anything to her or tried to harm her in anyway. It was just that his mere presence made her suspicious. He seemed to radiate some type of power but she could never put her finger on what that power was.  
  
The old man appeared to disappear, dropping into the shadows, as she entered the dojo.  
  
If Niphredil could call anyplace home, the small dojo where she trained would be it. She was comfortable here, able to exert part of herself that cried out sometimes. Something about the martial arts felt right to her, like she was meant to give life to these movements.  
  
"Took you long enough to get here," commented one of the more advanced students as she entered the room they trained in.  
  
Doc was in his office, working on some last minute business arrangements. He was retiring and his more advanced students, Niphredil being among them, decided to treat him to a show of sorts. Each, alone or in tandem with another, was going to put on a small display for him. To show him just how much they had learned.  
  
"Sorry, Carla," Niphredil stated, speaking to the vicious looking girl who had greeted her with the snide comment, "I kind of got lost in my own thoughts on my way over here."  
  
"Are you going to spazz out like that when it comes time to do your thing with my Siddy-poo?" questioned an Oriental female clinging to the arm of a dark skinned boy.  
  
Niphredil regarded the couple with narrow eyes. The female's name was Angelica but she told everyone to call her Angie. The male, her boyfriend and the source of her own personality, had told her to call him Sid. Angie wasn't to keen on the fact Niphredil and Sid had decided to work in tandem, putting on a join display for Doc.  
  
"Do I ever spazz out when I'm here?" Niphredil retorted, forcing the other girl to shrink back a bit.  
  
The rest of the class seemed mildly oblivious to Niphredil's presence. There was a tallish boy named Omar and the strangest set of triplet Niphredil ever had the occasion to meet; Benjamin, Manuel, and Leonard also known as Benny, Manny, and Lenny.  
  
Discussion was kept to a quiet hush, as final parts of tandem routines were settled and a roster of who was doing what and when they were doing it.  
  
The hush was broken by Lenny, who shouted, "He's coming! Let's get ready!'  
  
Though Angie wanted to go last, Sid had convinced her he and Niphredil should close out their little show. The act the routine of them had worked out was difficult to say the least.  
  
Sid had come up with it, teaching it step by slow step to Niphredil.  
  
"Ready Niphredil?" he questioned, checking over her grip on the razor thin blades both had in their hands.  
  
"Very ready," came her reply.  
  
All thoughts of being followed were gone. She was in zone, focused beyond compare. Sid's check of the blade in her hand was not necessary. It felt comfortable to hold a blade in her hands, like there was a hidden strength in the metal that awoke some primal part of her. She'd been comfortable holding a blade since Doc had first placed on in her small hands.  
  
Sid gave a curt nod in Omar's general direction. The tall, silent boy cued the CD player. The song they were using was called "Congo Fury."  
  
Vaguely electronic notes filtered out followed by a voice crying out. Sid and Niphredil engaged in their dance, so to speak. It was a dance half of their own design and half inspired by a fight found in Sid's film of choice, The Animatrix. The song he was using, as well as most of the beginning of the routine, came from the short film "Final Flight of the Osiris."  
  
Of course, the pair could not move like the digital characters but they could try. When choreography ran out, the two worked on their own instincts. Each knew where the other was going to be and where the other blade would land. They moved in time with the music, Sid taking the heavier electronic beats to press Niphredil into defending herself.  
  
To her credit, the elven maiden was able to withstand the brunt of his attack. She became a twisting, turning creatures. Her motions were all even, flowing from one to the next without visible seams. She had never known where this style had originated from but neither could Doc, for that matter. It appeared to be not of this earth. Manny had once commented it reminded him of how the elves in the Lord of the Rings movies fought.  
  
Taking the lighter beats as her own, as well as anything that could be classified as vocalizations, Niphredil turned the tables on Sid. She came at him, blade glinting dangerously in the light. She noted that, as she went along, her grip would change allowing her to make the sword an actual extension of herself. It spun like another part of her arm.  
  
Agility, tumbling, was put on display as well. Back flips from both Niphredil and Sid were a common sight as well as bends that took them nearly to the floor.  
  
The two worked for the entire length of the track, almost seven and half minutes, ending it by backing away from each other.  
  
After all their displays, Doc regarded his students with his usually stare.  
  
Then his face split into a rare grin.  
  
"One day," he stated, "I'm going to wake up and the lot of you are going to be standing over my bed dressed as ninjas."  
  
The class laughed, and Benny brought out a huge cake. It was party time for the tired, want-to-be ninjas. 


	13. Una Farfalla

AN: I'd like to know who created the idea of Monday! I just had the longest day ever! I do believe that was because I had a physics test today at 4PM. Of course, my classes start at 8:30 AM so I had the entire day to think about it. Anywho, there are just like three weeks left in my semester! Then I'm free, free, free! As always, all of you are the best, you make my week! Keep up the reviewing!  
  
LJP: Questions galore! Fun! Let's see...he could possible be sprouting some prophesy and I don't think the Power Rangers have anything on an elf with a sword. It is the Xavier School from the X-Men and there is one X-Man (maybe X-Person would be a better word) who keeps popping up. He/She is there for a reason. Let's just say, the Tae Kwan Do, in its round about way, will be her ticket out.  
  
A Monkey's Harp: I can assure you, you're going to get a close encounter of the Middle Earth kind very soon. My karate instructor use to call us his wanna-be ninjas, especially me and this other girl. Feel free to come play in the sword ring with Niphredil and Sid!  
  
hobbitgirl11: I'm dog tired but ok. How are you? As for my dance lessons, everything is pretty crazy. Two and half dances are done and ready to go for our June recital. Those being, my jazz, ballet, and private ballet dances. The two tap dances I'm in, however, aren't even partly done! I have like a monstrous numbers of tap rehearsals a week now. I wish I still took Tae Kwan Do but I had to stop after I graduated high school because my instructor retired.  
  
sunni07: Thanks for the compliment! They're not very nice people and they're not big on being different. She breaks up the symmetry they have because she looks, acts, and basically is very different from them.  
  
Elainor: The pick up will be made soon enough and she may get to see the other side of the coin. She may even like the other side of said coin better.  
  
LalaithoftheBruinen: Thanks! Here's the next chapter! Someone from Middle Earth is going to crop up sooner than you think!   
  
Disclaimer: I own nothing except for a handful of made up characters. Tolkien thought up the concept and, as such, it belongs to him. I'm just playing in his world. I'm broke and in college. All I own are Pointe Shoes.  
  
"Butterfly, go home. It's getting late," Doc warned, watching Niphredil with a practiced eye.  
  
Her class had ended nearly an hour ago, yet she was staying around. Not that he minded her company at all.  
  
"I will, Doc, after I help you clean up," she stated, in a matter of fact voice, "and you know I can take care of myself."  
  
Doc just shook his head and allowed Niphredil to help him tidy up the dojo. He had to give her credit. She could bend in ways his arthritic hips and knees would never allow him to, making cleaning the floor an easier task.  
  
"You know, butterfly, I never though you'd last this long," Doc commented, trying to make conversation.  
  
Niphredil looked up from her task and regarded her instructor with an odd expression. His nickname for her, "butterfly," she was use to. He'd started calling her than because he landed lighter than anyone in the class, not making a sound when she did so. He said there were other reasons to the nickname, ones he said he'd tell her in time. It was the fact he didn't believe she'd last that had caused the puzzled expression.  
  
"Really?" she questioned, "How come?"  
  
Doc gave Niphredil a crooked smile and answered, "I'm afraid to say I did, butterfly. You just didn't look like the martial arts type. I figured you'd take one or two hits, start to cry, and never come back. I mean, you walk in here this little caterpillar with dark hair and scared eyes and now, look at you. You're a full grown butterfly."  
  
He laughed and added, "Be it a butterfly that can kick your rear end five ways from Friday."  
  
Niphredil blushed, an almost cherry red staining her cheeks. She and Doc had always gotten along well, much to the chagrin of the rest of the class. He had said that she was part warrior, that something in her was far stronger than she'd ever know. It was that same something that kept her alive in the home she lived in. "I really wish you didn't have to retire, Doc. It's going to be hard to figure out what to do if I can't come here and work with you," Niphredil admitted, staring at her bare feet.  
  
"Ah, butterfly, I wish I could stay and train you and the rest of the team. Unlike you, I seem to be getting old and the hips and knees are what they se to be," the instruct said, groaning as he hobbled about the room.  
  
"I know but sill," Niphredil, glumly, groaned tailing off.  
  
Doc did have a point though. Where everyone in the class seemed to age from the time she had first met them, very little about her had changed. She'd been slow to catch up with them in many respects and was still, to this day, tailing behind them. There was no person she could attribute this strange lack of aging to. Maybe it was from her real parents, maybe it wasn't. She couldn't say.  
  
Doc was one of the few people, the other being Hope and her family, who were genuinely kind to Niphredil. The "team," Oriental Angie, the triple threat that was Benny, Lenny, and Manny, silent Omar, fierce Carla, and serious Sid, had been friendly toward her but she knew that it was just a façade. She heard their little comments about how weird she was.  
  
She finished cleaning up; making sure the wide room was in ship shape. Noise began to filter into the room coming from the waiting area. Niphredil was pretty sure she was the only one who heard the faint sounds of conversation wafting into the room.  
  
"Doc, I had better get going. Your adult self defense class is here," Niphredil stated, lacing up the shoes that had been resting in the far corner of the room with her bag.  
  
"Let them wait!" Doc called, hobbling over to the far side of the room, "I have something for you."  
  
He walked over to his wide tan satchel, pulling on an item wrapped in an old terry cloth towel. Carrying the item with the utmost care, he hobbled over to Niphredil.  
  
"This is for you," he stated, hading the wrapped item to Niphredil with a flourish.  
  
She took the item from her instructor with a short, but polite bow. Unfolding it, she revealed an Asian looked sword in a soft leather sheath. She recognized it as the sword she used in competition, the one that had won her so many of her awards.  
  
"Doc, I can't..." Niphredil breathed, trying to hand the item back to Doc.  
  
Though she wanted to keep it in the worst way, she knew it wasn't right. This was a far too rich gift for a girl like her.  
  
"It's yours, butterfly, you've earned it. I can't tell you how many competitions you've won me with that think. Your skill has paid for it thrice over," Doc stated, refusing to take back.  
  
"Thank you," Niphredil breathed, pulling the sword out of its sheath.  
  
On one side of the sword, etched into the blade, were Asian characters spelling out her name and matching the characters found on her third-degree black belt. The characters on the other side however were wholly unrecognizable.  
  
"What do these say?" she questioned, tracing them over with her fingers.  
  
"Butterfly and Blizzard," Doc replied, indicating which character meant what, "Butterfly because that's what I call you and Blizzard because that's the name of the sword."  
  
Niphredil, reverently, placed the sword back in its sheath and pulled the Tae Kwan Do instructor into a tight hug.  
  
"I know, butterfly, I'm going to miss you too," he stated.  
  
Breaking the embrace, he added, "Be careful getting home, butterfly."  
  
"I will, Doc," she called, in reply, waving as she walked out.  
  
The strange, old eyes were absent as she stepped onto the street. The air had a bit to it, chilling her and numbing her hands ever so slightly.  
  
"So, now what?" she mused, staring up and down the street.  
  
The night was still young and she had been told to avoid coming back home. She knew she couldn't walk the streets all night with her gym bag in one hand and the sword, still wrapped up, in the other. Chances were good she would get arrested for doing just that.  
  
A loud growl, coming from her stomach, indicated her next stop.  
  
She walked a few blocks over, knowing exactly where she wanted to go. Hope's father, a tall man with a pencil thin moustache named Matthew, owned an Italian deli a few blocks over from the school his wife worked at and his children attended.  
  
She stopped in buying one of Matthew's famous sandwiches and a huge bottle of water. It was the first thing she had eaten since lunch.  
  
Finding an empty bench just outside the small deli, Niphredil sat down to eat.  
  
So involved in her meal and her own thoughts was Niphredil that she failed to notice the figure watching her from across the way. Like a white clad ghost he moved across the street coming to stop just off of Niphredil's right side.  
  
"Is this seat taken?" asked a voice, ancient sounding but wise, breaking Niphredil's reverie.  
  
"No, of course no," Niphredil replied, scooting over.  
  
She heard the person groan as he or she sat down, causing the elven maiden to look up. Her dark eyes went wide with shock and the sandwich fell from her hands.  
  
Sitting next to her was the old man. The same old man she had seen earlier. The same old man whose eyes had been watching her for weeks on end. 


	14. Il Mago Bianco

AN: Welcome to the wrapping up of my semester! I have about two weeks and change until school ends for me. Of course, for the said two weeks and change I have more homework and tests than I can shake a stick at. One of my personal favorites this semester is the fact I get to write a paper on the science of science fiction. How's this for an unfair story...my Girl Scout Troop (I'm a Scout Leader) is having a talent show this Friday night. I was going to dance to "Into the West" but the show's coordinator (my little sister no less) said the song was depressing and I was forced to change it! Anywho, enough with my ranting and onto bigger and better things! Thanks for all your reviews. As always, they're greatly appreciated and enjoyed!  
  
hobbbitgirl11: I hope you feel better! Thanks for your review, no matter how short or long!  
  
Greenleaf's Gal: Here's my latest update and I'm glad you liked the chapter.  
  
A Monkey's Harp: I know all about having no time...comes with part of being a college student. I hope you got done whatever you had to get done and that it wasn't too stressful for you. What Gandalf does or says will be revealed shortly!  
  
LalaithoftheBruinen: You are correct! The old man is Gandalf! Her reaction and his words coming up soon!  
  
PixiePea000: Take up all computer issues with your operator; he should know what to do. Blame all cliffhangers on The X-Files and The Matrix Trilogy. The bald principal is a reference to an X-Man but I'll not name names. As for the rebels, they're all jacked in and ready to go. By the by, GOLLUM!  
  
sunni07: First off, congrats on your baby chicken! I like Gandalf too. He reminds me of a mix between Dumbledore from Harry Potter (because he can be kind and wise) and Obi-Wan from Star Wars (because he's a good fighter).  
  
LadyJadePerendhil: I'm a big fan of the Beast. He's one of my favorite X- Men! There will be more about the sword in time. Its name has a tie in to the meaning of her own name. She does have her chosen art down cold and it's not just a happy chance.  
  
Disclaimer: I own nothing except for a handful of made up characters. Tolkien thought up the concept and, as such, it belongs to him. I'm just playing in his world. I'm broke and in college. All I own are Pointe Shoes.  
  
The old man, in his home known mostly commonly as Gandalf the White, looked at the young woman sitting on the bench with him. She looked for the entire world like a normal, everyday, child of man. That is, if one over looked the pointed ears and unusual way the girl seemed to carry herself.  
  
Couple that with her ability to fight and it was plain to see that she was not the child of man one wanted her to be.  
  
"A young lady should not be out this late all by herself," Gandalf stated, though he knew she was entirely capable of taking care of herself.  
  
He had the pleasure of seeing her fight, spying on her through the windows of the dojo. It had been Legolas and his sister Emma who had pointed out the half-elven maiden's unusual skill with a sword.  
  
*FLASHBACK*  
  
It was late in Middle Earth, the moon just reaching its apex.  
  
Two figures entered the halls of the citadel looking wide awake, despite the late hour.  
  
"What news?" Aragorn questioned, as soon as the two figures were properly fed and had a moment to take some rest.  
  
"You daughter, Aragorn, engages in some strange form of unarmed combat," Legolas informed his friend.  
  
"It is called Tae Kwan Do, sir. In that earth, it is a branch of something called martial arts and it is not always done unarmed. As a matter of fact, we say her with a sword," Emma, the smaller of the two figures, added.  
  
Her knowledge of the "other earth," as they called it had proved to be a resource. She knew of things the older men from Middle Earth did not. That knowledge seemed to include the hobbies Niphredil decided to talk part in.  
  
Legolas sighed and ran a hand through his hair. It was a strange sight to see a half-elven maiden wield a sword as well as an in Middle Earth could. Her weapon of choice did not look like any blade he had ever seen but she handled it just like the traditional blades the elves in Middle Earth used.  
  
"She fights like we do," Legolas stated, after a time, "she moves more like an elf than a child of man."  
  
Gandalf, sitting at the far end of the table, was smoking his pipe. A faint smile crossed his face, watching the expression on the king's face. Aragorn looked more eager than ever to meet this child, perhaps to test his skills against her strange training.  
  
*END FLASBACK*  
  
"It's not all that late, sir," Niphredil stated, breaking the white wizard out of his reverie, "I can take care of myself in any case."  
  
"I noticed," Gandalf countered, "I have been watching you."  
  
Niphredil gave the old man a knowing looking, making him aware of the fact she knew about his actions. She may not have grown up amongst the elves but many of the elven traits we there, including keen ears and eyes. Those keen ears and eyes had spotted the nearly silent wizard.  
  
"You know stalking is illegal, right?" she questioned, standing up and stretching.  
  
As she stretched, she gauged the old man's age. He was old, far older than anyone she knew. There was a good chance she could get away from him if he decided to try anything funny. Even if she could no go home, she could climb the fences around the Xavier School and seek asylum there.  
  
Hope's parents had promised her as much.  
  
The old man gave her a nod, well aware of the rules of this earth. Emma had said to be careful of what she called the "police." They were the earthen equivalent of citadel guards.  
  
Niphredil turned her back to the old man, intending on wandering around until she found that she had no choice but to go home.  
  
Seeing his opportunity slipping away, Gandalf, simply, stated, "You fight like your father but your kill comes purely from your mother's people."  
  
Niphredil turned slightly stunned expression on her face.  
  
"Excuse me," she breathed, strongly taken aback by the comment.  
  
She walked a few paces back toward the old man, dark eyes wide. Gandalf knew he had piqued her interest, giving her some slight bit of information that she had been longing for.  
  
"You heard me correctly, young one. You fight with the same intensity of your father but the way you use your skill comes down to you though your mother. Only one of her kind fights with that twisting, twirling motion you have used to such great effect," Gandalf stated, as relaxed as one could possibly be.  
  
"What are you talking about?" Niphredil questioned, not really believing her ears, "Do you know my parents?"  
  
Her fear of this old man, of what he could do to her, had turned to a strange sort of hope. She had tried, more times then she cared to remember, to find out about her birth parents but to no avail. It seemed they did not exist anywhere and that she had just materialized out of thin air. She knew that idea was not correct. No one could appear and disappear out of thin air. People came from people...no matter what people said.  
  
"You parents are the ones who sent me to watch you. They would like me to bring you to them," the old man stated.  
  
No matter how much hop she had, how much faith she wanted to have in the words of this old man, she could not totally believe him. Her suspicions, brought about by the world she lived in.  
  
"How do I know you are not lying to me?" she asked, stepping back again.  
  
"There are things you recall, young one, things from the time you spent with your mother. You may even remember your mother, as a child would. You remember a forest with golden trees and folks with fair faces," the old man stated, his voice gaining an almost dream-like quality to it.  
  
Niphredil's expression changed from suspicion to outright shock. Somehow this old man had perfectly described the location of her dreams and the creatures that walked through her dreams.  
  
She hadn't told a soul, not even Hope, about the dreams she had. She kept them to herself, guarding them as she would a secret.  
  
"Will you come?" the old man, suddenly asked. 


	15. La Scelta

AN: Hi all! How was everyone's week? I have about six long days of school left. Of course that means finals and term papers and stuff. I just finished writing a paper on The Science of Science Fiction which I thought was a great topic until everyone in my class called me immature for doing it. Mind you, this is college! Anywho, I promise more frequent updates as soon as I'm free from school! Thanks for putting up with me this semester! You guys are the best!

LalaithoftheBruinen: I'm glad you like that update! Here's the next chapter, fresh from the presses!

A Monkey's Harp: What's your term paper on and how's it going for you? You shall soon see what Niphredil does when confronted with Gandalf's choice.

Elleiadrieal: Here's my update as soon as humanly possible. I promise they'll get more frequent as soon as school's over for me and I don't have my insane Biochemistry professor giving me three to five assignments a week.

hobbitgirl11: As usual, I appreciate your review! Middle Earth is coming up very, very soon and you'll get to see everyone in their new roles. How are your dance classes going? Did you have your recital yet? Mine isn't until the end of June...

sunni07: Well, she is slightly paranoid but she also doesn't like her "family" so it makes for a difficult decision. Her choice is revealed soon. I hope your chicken is doing well! I do agree Gandalf or Dumbledore or, even, Obi-Wan Kenobi would make an excellent grandfather.

PixiePea000: You can't bring him back. He's long gone. If you try, I'll send the dynamic duo after you (you know which duo I'm talking about, the one that doesn't involve a certain dress wearing dude.) She'll get to Middle Earth soon and meet up with the rest of her watch party. As for your operator, call Sparks, Link, Jax, or AK. They should give you a better exit. Anywho, GOLLUM and watch out for Agent Elrond Smith and Mr. Anderson.

LJP: I promise there's going to be more chapters as soon as I'm free from school. The whole thing with the dreams stems from the idea that you sometimes have dreams that feel so real but how do you tell the difference between the real world and the dream world. The X-Men will have a tiny role, especially one of them. I actually wrote about Beast in my term paper for Biochemistry. Not sure what my Biochem professor is going to make of it though.

Midnight-Insomniac1532: LOL! I'm glad you were able to find some time to read it! I hope you liked it.

Lindiel Eryn: I'm sorry to hear about the lack of internet. That must not have been fun at all! You'll find out what her name means, eventually, and how it ties in with a few other things (including the sword she's walking around with). Good catch on the exclusive school but it's not a wizarding school. What Hope is and isn't will be revealed soon, too.

Disclaimer: I own nothing except for a handful of made up characters. Tolkien thought up the concept and, as such, it belongs to him. I'm just playing in his world. I'm broke and in college. All I own are Pointe Shoes.

Someplace, someone was blaring the Aerosmith song "Jaded."

Niphredil blinked a handful of times, taken aback by the old man's request. She figured her ears were deceiving her but that couldn't be so. There was no way for this man to know about both her parents and her dreams. Unless, of course, he came from Hope's school but that didn't seem likely. Save for the bald principal she had met with Jay and Kay requested enrollment for the twins, everyone else seemed younger.

The part of her that was still strongly elven was telling her to go with the old man, to trust his words and follow in his booted foot steps. To that part of here, there was something vaguely familiar about him. A sense she got off of him, perhaps. A man like him had never entered her dreams but there was still a familiar air about him. She recalled, possibly, being told about people like him when she was younger but it was not a sure thing.The other part of her, the part reared to be human by Jay and Kay, was screaming not to go with this man, despite the fact she could take care of herself. He was old, she was not. He appeared to be frail, she was far from it. It had been drilled into her never to talk to strangers but here she was talking to one.

Niphredil was torn, both sides of her mind warring against one another.

She wanted to go looking for her parents but she had heard the stories of young girls who had gone off with strange men, never to be heard from again.

"But they didn't know how to take care of themselves," Niphredil, mentally, mused.

Doc had seen to it that all "his girls" knew how to take care of themselves out on the street. He had said they were targets just because they were female, some more so than others. He had shown them enough to allow them all to feel confident enough when walking around on the streets alone.

If only to keep the man from asking further questions and to silence the elven part of her mind, Nipredil answered with, "I'll come."

Her decision seemed to please the old man as he gave her a warm smile. In his eyes, thought, there was great relief.

"Thank goodness," Gandalf mused, "I did not want to enter a contest of wills with this one. She has the will of her father in her."

"If you please, my lady, follow me," he stated, aloud, beckoning for her to follow after him.

Throwing a quizzical look at the old man's back, Niphredil started to follow.

She gauged her steps, moving with practiced stealth. If Doc had given her one consistent complement during her training with him, it was that she moved with an almost silent speed. Her feet never seemed to make a sound when they hit the ground and she moved with a strange sort of grace. That compliment seemed to bother Angie the most, as she felt she was the most skilled out of the trio of females in the class.

Niphredil knew she could out run or subdue the old man, if it was necessary but, for some odd reason, she knew it was not going to be. He wasn't going to hurt her but she could not say why she knew that. It was almost instinctual.

Judging that his threat to her was nil, that he wasn't going to do anything ill or harmful to her, Niphredil drew up along side the old man.

He gave her an appraising look, as if checking to see something about her she, herself, could not place. Then an old smile, a grandfatherly one, appeared on his face. He seemed to be glad to see her, though Niphredil could not understand why.

"Where are we headed?" she questioned, noticing that they were heading toward the building where the twins had attended grade school.

Across the street from the building was a huge park, rivaling only the grounds of the local boarding school in both size and beauty. In her opinion, the boarding school had nicer grounds.

One of the main features of the park was a massive baseball diamond. They seemed to be angling toward that specific location.

"Home, child, your real home," he answered, cryptically.

"My real home? Where's that? The place in my dreams?" Niphredil asked, in rapid succession.

Niphredil gave the old man a sheepish smile, feeling foolish for asking questions like that. She felt she knew better.

Gandalf, merely, sighed. He had survived hobbits, Peregrin Took standing out in his mind at the moment, and their questioning. The questions of one lost half-elven child seemed easy enough to handle when compared to that.

"You real home could be said to be several places. I will not get into the details of that right now. I will be taking you to your parents home, where they now dwell," Gandalf replied.

"Is it far? Will I get to meet them right away? I think I'd like that," she babbled.

Gandalf gave a small laugh, noting the change in Niphredil's manner. She had gone from being intensely suspicious of both him and his motives. Now she was questioning him like an eager child. He had to stop and remind himself that she was, indeed, a very young child. Here she was nearly grown, soon able to live on her own and have a family of her own. Where she was headed, however, she was going to be looked up as a child.

"Not far, young one," he answered, "you may have to wait to see your parents. They hold very important positions where we are going. I do not know if they will be able to see you."

"Oh," Niphredil breathed.

She had been imagining her parents meeting her with open arms. The idea that her parents were too busy to even see the child they were looking for frightened her a bit. The image of a nice family, where she was wanted vanished. It was replaced by the image of the Joneses, the family she was leaving.

"That is not to say they do not want to meet you. They are quite eager to. I am sure once they learn of your arrival, they will forgo their duties to meet you," Gandalf assured the half-elven child.

Niphredil perked up a bit, the image of another family like the Joneses being banished from her mind again. Perhaps, things would be as she wanted them...

"If I may ask, sir, what is your name? You seem to known an awful lot about me and I know nothing about you," she requested.

"You may call me Gandalf or Mithrandir, as is the want of your people. May I call you Niphredil?" the old man replied.

She was not sure how he knew her name-she had never told him-but Niphredil gave a slight shrug. The second part of his statement was far more intriguing than the reasoning behind how he knew her name.

"I guess you can. What do you mean when you say 'my people?' I'm human like everyone else," she stated.

"Well, almost everyone else," she added in an undertone.

Gandalf ignored her questioned. He was walking around the baseball field, mumbling to himself in a strange language.

"We are here," he intoned.

All of a sudden, Niphredil felt herself fall into darkness.


	16. Radici Simili

AN: Hi everyone! I'm exceedingly happy today. As of this update (on a Monday as usual), I am officially done school! I took my Biochemistry final today and now I'm free for the entire summer! Actually, I like school but I'm happy my semester's over. The people I have my science classes with decided, because of my term paper presentation on the science of science fiction, to start calling me skiffy. Skiffy is a negative word for anything relating to sci-fi, including its fans. Anywho, I'm going to try to update more often now that I'm out of school! Please keep the reviews coming! All of you rock!  
  
elentir girl: Here's the next chapter, fresh from my computer. Sorry it took so long. I had finals and stuff.  
  
hobbitgirl11: First things first, I hope your recital went well and everything was a great success. I know all about dancing in a location, after about 16 years, the studio where I dance moved locations. I was scared as anything of getting out there to do my ballet private because I didn't know the stage. I bet you did very well! I'm glad you liked the song I used. I figured she's just a bit jaded.  
  
LalaithoftheBruinen: I'm glad you're liking this story and I promise more frequent updates now that I'm out of school!  
  
A Monkey's Harp: Finishing a paper is the greatest feeling in the world sometimes...like having a weight taken off your shoulders or something. I bet you did really well on your paper. I'm glad you like Niphredil and her slightly human nature. Like the song I used in the chapter said, she's jaded because of the people she's lived around.  
  
sunni07: I'm a huge science fiction fan. I either read that or things like Lord of the Rings. It's really cool, though, how actually science ties into the fictional stuff. Ducks rule! One of my relatives use to have a pair of ducks and my sister and I use to play with them. I'm glad you liked the song. I figured that it fit the chapter in a strange way.  
  
Lindiel Eryn: Sorry, I have a thing for cliffhangers. They make things interesting. I know all about doing something and decided to do something else. Happens to me whenever I had to type Physics labs. You'll find out what Hope is, eventually. Here's the next chapter where she'll meet someone but I'm not saying who.  
  
A Sly Fan: It's a plot device as old as Alice in Wonderland and as new as The Matrix Trilogy (both I'm fans of actually, considering The Matrix Trilogy is a retelling of Alice in Wonderland with a male Alice). I just figured I'd use it too.  
  
LJP: Gandalf's powers to go to and from Middle Earth are based on the same portals Patrick uses. Since Gandalf is far more powerful than Patrick, he can access them as well and be slightly more accurate about it. As for the stuff about Aragorn and Arwen not being able to see her, Gandalf's just pushing her buttons a bit. They did send the others to get her and he's just making her think.   
  
Disclaimer: I own nothing except for a handful of made up characters. Tolkien thought up the concept and, as such, it belongs to him. I'm just playing in his world. I'm broke and in college. All I own are Pointe Shoes.  
  
She felt a lot like Alice, tumbling down the rabbit hole. Down, down, down she felt through the darkness unaware of time and place. There was just darkness, unabating darkness.  
  
Until she fell into a moonlit courtyard under a velvety dark, star scattered sky.  
  
Gone were the markers of the neighborhood from whence she came. There were stone buildings all about her but they were nothing like the ones in her old neighborhood. No cars were present on the circular streets and no electric streetlights provided light. Even the air smelled cleaner, fresher might have been a better word.  
  
She landed first, drinking in the sights around her. Where ever the wizard had taken her, this strange location she had landed in, felt more like home than the town she had spent most of her life in. She felt more comfortable without the marks of modern conveniences around her.  
  
Soon after she landed, the wizard landed next to her. He seemed to find her wide eyed stare amusing as a small smile crept onto his face. To Gandalf, she had already started to change, to become the child she would be perceived to be not the almost adult she had been trained by the Muggles to be.  
  
Niphredil jumped back, noting for the first time that both she and the wizard were not clad as they had been in the park.  
  
The wizard, Gandalf he had told her to call him, wore snow white robes. A white pointed cap, a wizard's hat it looked like to Niphredil, was on his head of pure white hair that matched his long beard. In his hands was a carven staff of the purest white wood Niphredil had ever seen.  
  
She, herself, wore a rustic looking top of tree bark brown and dark green leggings. Soft boots, unlike the clunky ones some in the other world wore, of brown were on her feet. Her gym bad was gone and the sword she had received was belted around her waist, resting on her left hip. She knew that, because she was right hand dominant, she would have to draw the sword up across her body. That would allow her to almost instantly block a blow directed at her. She noted that the belt holding her sword was her black belt, the markings the same as they had been before her tumble down the rabbit hole.  
  
"What in the world just happened?" she asked the wizard, half curious, half unnerved.  
  
"I have taken you home, just as you wanted," Gandalf replied with an enigmatic smile.  
  
He knew she would be confused, unsure of what to make of his message and the events that had brought her out of the other world. That was why he had requested a certain path be followed. It would help make the transition more comfortable for all involved.  
  
"And where would home be?" Niphredil questioned, wanting to know the exact name of her current location.  
  
Her question, again, was ignored by the white wizard. She was becoming slightly annoyed by that fact. All she knew, thus far, was that she had been brought home. Where home was, she could not say because no one was telling her.  
  
"We must make haste, if you are to meet your parents," he announced.  
  
Niphredil was about to protest, to say something about much it was bothering her that her parents actually had to take time out to meet their daughter, but quickly changed her mind. Gandalf had started to walk away, moving with far more speed than she had figured he was capable of. Not wanting to be left in an unfamiliar place, she ran to catch up.  
  
As she jogged behind the white wizard, passing through long halls full of interesting looking people and objects, millions of thoughts ran through her head. Thoughts about her parents and what they would be like. Would they be cruel and cold like the Joneses, making her feel as unwanted as the flu, or would they be different, welcoming her as their daughter? Was she an older sister or, even, a younger one? How come they lived in such a lavish place? What were their jobs in this strange world?  
  
She hardly noticed when Gandalf stopped, so caught up in her own thoughts was she.  
  
"This is your room," he announced, "I will send someone to help you get ready to meet your parents. In the meantime, please stay put. It is very easy to get lost in a place like this."  
  
He walked away, leaving the half-elven maiden staring at the closed door. She gave a slight shrug and entered the room.  
  
"Nice," she mused, as she surveyed the room, "a little rustic but nice."  
  
There was a bed, a massive item with carven posts, against a far wall. A large trunk rested at the foot of the bed. Next to it was a huge closet with ornate designs on the two huge doors. On the bed's other side, was an unadorned door. She assumed it lead to a bathroom of some kind. Oh her left, was a vanity table of some kind with a matching chair. On the right side of the door, in a wooden frame, was some type of map. There were windows on either wall of the room. One faced the courtyard she had arrived in while the other faced a large, open field.  
  
Niphredil began to investigate the room, peering into every drawer, exploring every nook and cranny. The sound of a knock on the door drew her attention away from her investigation.  
  
"That must be the person Gandalf told me about, the one who's suppose to help me get ready to meet my parents," she decided.  
  
Expecting an older woman, Niphredil was taken aback by what was standing in her doorway.  
  
There stood a little girl who looked no more than twelve or thirteen years of age. Her silvery-white hair hung loose around her shoulders and a silver circlet, made to look like a crown laurel leaves. She wore a long forest green dress worked through with silver at the top, creating design of leaves and vines. Hanging out of her dress, was a silver leaf on a fine chain. The chain was similar in design to the one holding the snowflake around her neck.  
  
Niphredil had the strangest feeling that she'd seen this child before but she could not place where or when. Her face was familiar to the recently arrived, half-elven maiden.  
  
"Hello," she, cautiously, stated.  
  
"Hi there," the figure said in a smallish voice, "Is your name Niphredil?"  
  
"That it is. Did Gandalf send you?" Niphredil replied, curiously.  
  
The little girl nodded and answered, "I am suppose to help you get ready to meet your parents."  
  
Niphredil invited the little girl into her room deciding that there was more to her than meets the eye. She did not appear to be the average handmaiden, unless all handmaidens in this world wore ornately carved silver items on their heads and around their necks.  
  
"May I ask you a few questions? You really do not have to answer them but I'd appreciate it if you would," Niphredil broached, sitting down on the trunk at the foot of the bed.  
  
The little girl bit her lower lip, obviously thinking.  
  
"I will try but I am not sure how much I can say," she replied with a friendly sort of smile.  
  
"First things first, you know my name is Niphredil. What's your name?" the half elven maiden asked watching as the little girl took a seat at the vanity table's chair.  
  
"My name is Emma," the little girl replied, surprising Niphredil with such a normal sounding name.  
  
The last thing she had expected was a name that sounded like it stepped out of the world she had once lived.  
  
"My second question may sound odd but, where are we?" she asked.  
  
That was the crux of her questions at the moment. She wanted to know what Gandalf would not tell her---their location.  
  
The little girl smiled, trying to suppress a laugh. She knew the reaction she was going to receive when she answered the question. Emma had gone through the same set of feelings when she arrived home.  
  
"We are, currently, in the White City, the City of Kings. It is better known as Gondor which is in Middle Earth," Emma, carefully, replied.  
  
Niphredil's eyes went wide, not really believing what Emma had told her. She could not be in Middle Earth since that was a fictional place found in a set of books she hadn't read.  
  
"Middle Earth?" she half exclaimed, "You're kidding right?"  
  
Emma shook her head, pushing some of her hair out of her eyes. She felt badly for Niphredil, as she saw the confusion setting in. It was the same confusion she had felt when Legolas, her half brother, had told her she was an elf from Middle Earth. Of course, she had bolted form his sight when she had first heard that bit of news.  
  
"I am very sorry to tell you this but I am not kidding," Emma added.  
  
"But how?" Niphredil continued, "Middle Earth is fake, fantasy, not really!"  
  
Though she was ranting, denying what this young girl was telling her, some part of hew knew Emma was telling the truth.  
  
"I can not tell you how but, please do not feel badly. I reacted the same when I first found out I was from here, too," Emma assured the older girl.  
  
"What?!" Niphredil exclaimed.  
  
For a brief moment, she had thought she was the only person ever to go through this. It, now, seemed Emma had come through a similar situation.  
  
Emma sighed and launched into a brief explanation of her own past. She explained how she and her parents had wound up in Middle Earth and how she had earned the title of princess.  
  
"So, let me see if I understand this. You're an elven princess who was taken from Middle Earth just after being born. You were raised as if you were a normal child until your brother found you and told you the truth," Niphredil summed up.  
  
"That is, basically, it. You are an elf too, I think," Emma stated.  
  
A strange look passed over her face and she clamped a hand over her mouth. Her cheeks tinged red as she realized what she had said.  
  
"Oh no! I was not suppose to saw that!" she moaned, looking sheepish.  
  
"Wait, can you explain that? I mean, if it's not going to get you into too much trouble," Niphredil broached.  
  
"My biological dad would not like me telling you this. Since that is the case, I guess I could try to explain it. Mind you, I do not really understand it myself," Emma replied.  
  
She thought for a moment, getting dangerously quiet as she organized her thoughts.  
  
"Your father is a man, but he is a certain type of man that has been blessed with a very long life. Your mother was an elf but now, she is not an elf. I am not sure how that works. That is all I can tell you," Emma tried to explain, giving the older girl a half hearted shrug.  
  
"Do you know anything else about my parents?" Niphredil asked excitedly.  
  
She felt bad for asking the young girl so many questions but she needed to know. She wanted her questions answered and was happy to have found someone who appeared capable of doing so.  
  
"I am not suppose to say anything else because you are suppose to decided how you feel about them yourself," Emma answered, getting up and going over to the closet.  
  
She heaved the doors open and began to rifle through the dresses the closet contained.  
  
"Are you telling the truth?" the older girl pressed.  
  
"Mostly," Emma answered, extracting herself from the confines of the closet.  
  
"I am not suppose to say but I will tell you that your parents are very excited to have you back, especially your father. My brother said that he has never seen him this excited in an age," Emma admitted.  
  
"My father," Niphredil said, almost to herself, "what is he like?"  
  
She recalled, somewhere, having a proper mother but never a father. Jay had been the father figure in her life and he was lacking in all departments. She was hoping her real father was far better.  
  
"You father is a very interesting person. He is very good friends with my brother so you would have to ask him about your father. He has know him for a very long time. I can tell you that your mother said she is kind of glad he was not there when you were born because he is far more nervous than she," Emma answered, truthfully.  
  
She pulled a long purple and gold dress from the closet, laying it on the large bed.  
  
Niphredil picked up the dress, assuming that she was suppose to change into it. She walked over to the second door in her room, pushing it open to discover a changing room of sorts.  
  
As she changed, keeping her eyes on her sword, more thoughts raced through her mind. Would she like these people? Would they like her? Why was her father not there when she was born? Was she ever really wanted, then? What was she, exactly?  
  
She exited the room, to find Emma standing in the doorway.  
  
"Come on. We must go. We are late, I think," she said in a hurried voice.  
  
What they were late for, Niphredil could only guess as she followed Emma down several more long hallways. Her eyes grew wider, if possible, when they reached a vast marble room. A room, Niphredil assumed, was a throne room of some kind.  
  
The two females walked the length of the room, heading for a small side door.  
  
Emma knocked three times, paused, and knocked again.  
  
The door swung open without a creak.  
  
"We have to go in," Emma stated, leading Emma into the smaller room. 


	17. Individuazione della Verità

AN: Hi everyone! I'm sorry I didn't update a second time last week. I would up having to set up things for no less than three Girl Scout trips. We took about eighty kids and parents to a Mets game last Sunday and, this coming Saturday; we're taking about the same number of kids and parents to Build-A- Bear. The following week, we're taking them to the circus. I got volunteered to sort out names for party lists and give tickets to parents. Now that's over with, I hope to update again this week! Anyway, thanks for all your reviews! I appreciate every last one of them! Please keep them coming because you're helping me more than you know.  
  
A Monkey's Harp: I'm glad you liked the chapter. Niphredil is being rushed from place to place by people she's not really getting to know so her head is, basically, spinning. Even Emma, who was supposed to be something like a normal face to her, has confused her. You'll see how her parents react to her soon. If the offer still stands, I'd be happy to read your paper for you. I'm not sure how great or helpful my feedback will be but I'll look at it.  
  
hobbitgirl11: First things first, congrats on a good recital! I'm glad you had fun. I have a boat load of rehearsals in preparation for my recital at the end of June because two of the dances still aren't done. Anyway, you'll see what Niphredil and Emma are going to do. Remember, Emma's under assignment from the king to make friends with his daughter and they both have things in common.  
  
LalaithoftheBruinen: Sorry about the cliffhanger. It's a bad habit I have. Sorry to hear about school. I kind of miss being in school already. It gives me something to do during the day and it stops me from reading nonstop. Here's the latest update!  
  
LJP: She's still trying to digest what happened to her and her first reactions will be revealed in time. I needed to get her to meet Emma first since they're may wind up being friends who have a lot in common. That includes first impressions of their new homes. I had to get it in there that Emma is still very much a little girl. She just hasn't had an opportunity to act like one because there's no one who is actually "her age." I hope you like this chapter better!   
  
Disclaimer: I own nothing except for a handful of made up characters. Tolkien thought up the concept and, as such, it belongs to him. I'm just playing in his world. I'm broke and in college. All I own are Pointe Shoes.  
  
Niphredil stood in the doorway, staring around the room with wide eyes. It was a far smaller room than the one she and Emma had passed through. Where the large room frightened her, turning her blood as cold as the marble it appeared to be made out of, this room put her more at ease. She felt she could approach her parents in this smaller room, where everything seemed more comfortable and lived in.  
  
Sitting in the room, on two carven chairs, was a man and a woman. Their bearing, the richness of their clothing and the crowns on their heads, made her think of royalty. She could only assume that they were a king and queen for Emma said she was a princess. They were in conversation with a young, tall male-at least she thought it was a male-who appeared to be some kind of close relative of Emma's.  
  
Emma had darted off, leaving Niphredil standing. She crossed the length of the room, stopping in front of the seated pair. She dropped into a low curtsey before continuing on to stand next to the tall male. Though she made no sound as she moved, the male seemed to know the instant she came to stand at his side.  
  
"My sister and I will take our leave," he said, giving a slight bow to the seated figures, "This is a private matter."  
  
She tapped his sister on the shoulder and motioned for her to walk next to him.  
  
"Please, Prince Legolas," the female sitting at the front of the room interjected, "my husband and I would like you and Emma to stay."  
  
"There may be questions asked that only a certain person will be able to answer. This is about providing answers to long asked questions, is it not?" the male added.  
  
"Are my lord and lady sure?" the tall man-Legolas, the other male called him-questioned.  
  
He did not want to intrude on something he knew to be a private affair. He, himself, had some measure of experience in this type of situation and knew, full well, the feelings it would provoke in all parties involved. Legolas could only assume his friend knew what he was doing and trusted that decision. History had shown that to be the wise thing to do.  
  
To Legolas, it made a strange sort of sense to allow Emma to stay for she knew more keenly than any other how Niphredil was feeling. Like the dark haired girl, Emma had been taken from her world and introduced to her knew home. Any questions about the change could be answered by the smallish silvery-white haired child standing next to him.  
  
"We are very sure, Prince Legolas," the female said, giving him a small smile.  
  
Legolas only nodded his understanding and took his sister's hand. He led her off to the far side of the room, instructing her to keep quiet and just watch.  
  
"Something very important is about to take place," he whispered to his sister.  
  
"I know," came her reply.  
  
Niphredil watched the exchange with wide eyes. She was badly confused, having come from a world where rulers were chosen by the people. Kings and queens, princes and princesses existed only in fairy tales and, of course, those were made up. Those were just stories to help children sleep and to give their imaginations something to play with. That  
  
Of course, that appeared to be a wrong way of thinking about it. She stood in a room with a king and queen, and, adding to the strangeness, an elven prince and princess.  
  
"Come forward," the woman beckoned, snapping Niphredil out of her reverie, "please do not be scared."  
  
Taking baby steps, small and tentative, Niphredil crossed the length of the room. Her eyes were on her slipper clad feet watching them move across the tiled floor. She was unsure how to approach royalty, having never met anyone greater than the scientist Godfather of her friend Hope.  
  
She was unsure of she should curtsey or not, like Emma had done before her.  
  
"Do I even know how to curtsey," she wondered, curiously.  
  
Niphredil contented herself with giving the pair a bow similar to the one she had been required to give at the beginning and end of every Tae Kwan Do lesson as well as before and after every spar. She stood up, arms rigid at her sides, and bowed from the waist. It was a comfortable motion, reassuring in the very uncomfortable situation she had found herself in.  
  
As she stood, she took note of the features of both the male and female. They were both of undetermined age-the female more so than the male. The female was dark of hair and eyes, striking Niphredil as odd since she possessed the same hair and eye coloring. There was something vaguely familiar about the female. The elven part of her mind was telling her that she had once known this woman that she had appeared in her dreams. The male had dark hair on his head and face and his eyes were of a lighter shade. His face, unlike the woman's, was unfamiliar to Niphredil. Both looked kindly at Niphredil, catching her off guard. Most stories involved one of the rulers, be it the king or queen, being cruel or cold.  
  
An oddity about the pair struck Niphredil, as she tried not to fidget under their communal gaze. Their features, if combined, could have produced the features she was familiar with. Ones she knew very well and saw on a daily basis. Her own features...her dark hair and eyes, the fact she was quite pale.  
  
"I am not scared," she, finally, responded, "Maybe nervous is the better word for how I am feeling right now."  
  
In truth, she was scared but she was loath to admit that fact. Fear was something she was not keen on showing for she knew there were things out there that looked as if they should be feared but were not frightening in the least.  
  
"Why are you nervous?" the male asked, taking her statement and turning it around to get her to speak further.  
  
"For many reasons, I believe. One of the main ones would be the fact I am not sure what to expect from my parents and I do not know what they expect of me," she answered, trying to keep her tone as formal as possible.  
  
"Why do you have this sense of nervousness?" the woman inquired with some concern in her voice.  
  
Their questions, the tones they used in this strange interview, were throwing Niphredil. She could not see how the relationship, or lack thereof, with her parents was of any importance to the couple before her.  
  
"The feeling related to my parents? I mean, they are not in my life for many years and, now, out of the clear blue sky, they are. I just want to know why. Actually, I would like to know the 'whys' of many things where my parents are concerned. There are questions I have that I would like to have answered one day," Niphredil explained.  
  
"Are you angry with them?" the woman asked, her voice anxious.  
  
To Niphredil, it seemed this interview had been at both the woman's request and for her benefit. Her, basically, taking over the questioning had lead Niphredil to think in that way.  
  
"I do not think I am. I mean, I do not want to be angry with them. That, of course, depends on them and how they feel about me and the reasons they gave for sending me away," Niphredil explained.  
  
"But, despite what you do now know about your parents, you still wish to meet them," the man brought up, "Why is that?"  
  
Niphredil shuffled her feet, unsure of how to best answer that question. The reasons were personal and private, her own and she liked it that way. Then again, perhaps, they were common and ran along the lines of why her parents were looking for her. She could not say because, much to her chagrin, she was stuck in this strange interview with a king and queen instead of meeting with her parents.  
  
"I just want to know them in the same way, I hope, they would like to know me. I could be wrong about them wanting to know me but that is my fondest hope," Niphredil admitted, being slightly vaguer on purpose.  
  
A strong silence lapsed in the room. There was nothing to say or, at least, it felt that way. Niphredil was allowed to entertain whatever thoughts, whatever feelings she had at that moment in time.  
  
In the silence of the room, the elven part of her mind was strong and loud forcing Niphredil to pay heed to it. The information it gave explained the interview, gave understanding to the half-elven maiden standing at the center of the room. She suddenly and clearly knew why the woman had taken control of the interview, knew why her face had seemed familiar and where she knew it from.  
  
The woman was the exact same woman from her dreams, the dreams that kept reminding her of who she really was. If that was, truly, the case this woman had to be her mother.  
  
As the idea came to Niphredil, the woman confirmed it with a simple, "It is true."  
  
"You two are my parents, then," Niphredil blurted, through her shocked haze.  
  
Her dreams had, somehow, been telling her of her reality. There was truth in the perceived fiction of her dreams. She just wondered how much fiction there was in that truth.  
  
"And you are our princess," the man added with a smile  
  
"Hold on," Niphredil stated, trying to get her thoughts organized and to find her center, "If I am a princess, then I was right in assuming you two are the king and queen."  
  
The woman nodded, confirming Niphredil's assessment.  
  
"That we are. I am Arwen and, this is your father, Aragorn," the woman said as a form of introduction.  
  
"My name is Niphredil but, I guess, you knew that already. It's very nice to meet you after all these years. I think I remember you," she said her eyes coming to rest on her mother.  
  
An uncomfortable silence filled the room as Niphredil sized up her parents and they did the same. No one knew what to say or what to do as the situation changed from a sort of interrogation to a reunion of family.  
  
It was Aragorn who broke the silence, suggesting, "Let us go eat. We can speak further over diner. I trust you must be hungry after your journey here."  
  
Unsure if she was hungry or not, Niphredil followed her parents, Emma, and her brother into another room. In the center of the room was a long, large table.  
  
"Please, sit," Arwen said to her daughter.  
  
Though she had grown up, much of the little girl she recalled lived in the person standing next to her. She knew it would take time but that other person-the elven child she recalled- could be made to come back, to return to the foreground of the jaded frame of mind Niphredil was employing.  
  
Unsure of the protocol, Niphredil, sheepishly, asked, "Where?"  
  
"Near the head of the table. You are a member of the royal family, after all," Arwen replied, gently steering her daughter towards the head of the table.  
  
After taking stock of the situation, Niphredil opted to sit on her father's left hand side. Across from her sat her mother. Next to her sat Emma.  
  
Food was served on large platters and, after everyone had eaten their fill, silenced reigned again. The same silence that had existed in the other room and had hung in the air during the meal, refused to dissipate.  
  
No one, really, knew what to say.  
  
"So...um...what was your family like?" Emma broached, making a brave attempt at starting a conversation.  
  
"I really do not want to talk about them. It would spoil the day," Niphredil, plainly, answered.  
  
The room fell dangerously quiet again.  
  
"I do believe I own everyone, especially Niphredil, an explanation," Arwen stated, making her attempt at breaking the heavy silence that had taken up residence in the room.  
  
"An explanation of what?" Niphredil wanted to know.  
  
"Of how you came to be and why I sent you away," Arwen answered.  
  
Niphredil's expression brightened considerable. The truth-the most precious and valuable commodity she could think of-was about to be given to her. Given freely, no less. She had, secretly, been expecting to have to, somehow, trick the truth out of someone here.  
  
Before she could begin her story, though, Legolas interjected, "Please, my friend, do not go into too much detail. There are very young ears present."  
  
He had been referring to his own sister but, he realized, it also encompassed Niphredil. To the others in the room, Niphredil, like Emma, was still a very young child.  
  
Laughter rang out in the room, shattering the tension like glass, and Arwen began her story.  
  
As the story wrapped up, Niphredil felt her mind spinning. She had a million and one questions she wanted to ask. The truth had given her more questions than answers, it seemed.  
  
Though she had questions to ask, she could not force any of them to come out. Her mouth and her mind were not working in sync with each other. Instead, she began to feel profoundly tired. There was no way for her to know what time it really was but her internal clock was telling her it was quite late and she needed the scant few hours of light sleep she was accustomed to getting.  
  
"I do not want to be the barer of bad new but I must get Emma back to her parents. They are probably worried about her, wondering what has happened to her," Legolas informed the king and queen.  
  
"I am sure it has been a long day for Niphredil as well. Might I suggest we retired for the evening. A new day will dawn soon and more can be said then," Aragorn brought up.  
  
"She can come back with up, if you would like her to," Legolas offered.  
  
"I am sure she would like that very much," Arwen concurred.  
  
"Thank you. I guess this is good night," Niphredil said, around a wide yawn.  
  
She walked back to her room, talking with Emma and making a brave attempt at saying awake.  
  
"If there is anything you wish, Emma and her parents are in the next room," Legolas told the half-elven maiden.  
  
"Good night!" Emma called, as her brother took her to her room.  
  
Searching through the drawers, Niphredil found, what appeared to her to be, pajamas. She changed and turned down her bed. Suddenly there was a knock at her door. 


	18. Fare Le Domande

AN: I'M SO SORRY! I was going to update again but my dad decided to have his friend "fix" the computer because he didn't like the way it was working. Well, in the process of fixing it, the guy managed to delete all of my files. Those files included a couple of stories I've been working on. I've spent the rest of the week trying to put the pieces a friend of mine had saved on her computer back together. As long as I don't have another episode like that, I should be able to update again. All the reviews I got did make me feel better though. Please keep them coming!

hobbitgirl11: I'm glad you liked it, even though it was a bit odd. I figured I take a different spin on the reunion thing. Plus, Niphredil's been living with people who aren't really too fond of her so she's not all that sure what to make of a real family.

A Monkey's Harp: Thanks for the advice, as always! First things first, your paper was very well written and very thorough. It was a good read! Secondly, I'm glad you liked the chapter and the weirdness.

PixiePea000: Who did you call; Link, Sparks, Jax, AK, or someone else? You know why I do the cliffhanger thing. If you want someone to blame for it look you the folks in charge of The X-Files or The Matrix Trilogy. As for your questions. Yes, they realize she's gone. You'll see if they care or not. Hope may pop up again. I'll leave that last one open. Anyway, GOLLUM and watch out for Agent Elrond Smith (the dynamic duo and friends are having issues with him again).

LalaithoftheBruinen: Sorry about the cliffhangers. I'm sorry it drives you out of your mind. Here's my latest update which I intended to put up last week but the computer's conspiring against me.

LJP: The knocker will be revealed soon. I'm glad you liked this chapter. I'm sorry if you were confused about the whole parents thing. I am glad, though, you felt for Niphredil. Thanks, as always, for your review!

sunni07: Quite alright! I know the real world has a tendency to get in the way sometimes. I'm glad you like the story. What happens with Emma and Niphredil will be shown in time.

Disclaimer: I own nothing except for a handful of made up characters. Tolkien thought up the concept and, as such, it belongs to him. I'm just playing in his world. I'm broke and in college. All I own are Pointe Shoes.

He had all intentions of going to sleep. The day's events had left his mind in a twisted knot and only time and sleep appeared to be the means by which the knots would be untied.

There was something though, like a splinter in his mind driving him mad, he had to do. There was no getting around it. He wanted to speak further with Niphredil, to hear more about her and to answer more of the questions he knew she had. She was a stranger in a strange land and he felt that, by easing the transition that would make up for all the time he had lost.

So he stood in her doorway, hoping that she had not yet gone to sleep and that he would have the opportunity to speak with her even for a moment.

Niphredil had heard the knocking from the inside of the rooms she had been given. For a moment, she hesitated unsure of what she wanted to do. Should she open the door and face the person on the other side or pretend she did not hear the knocking and take some rest?

Her mind was a jumble of strange thoughts, trying to work their way through her mind. She'd found her family, that was true and she felt like that piece of the eternal puzzle was complete. Then again, she felt like several other pieces had been pushed out of place. One question answered, one door closed with more questions to be asked and more doors to open.

The knocking became slightly more insistent, as if the person on the other side was determine to find out of the room's lone occupant was awake or asleep.

Getting up from the bed, where she had been sitting, Niphredil pulled the door open to reveal her father.

Both father and daughter stared at each other for a long moment, unspoken questions forming in both their eyes.

Aragorn took in his daughter's state and, peering over her shoulder, the state her room was in.

"Did I wake you?" he asked, sounding slightly confused."Oh, no you didn't. I was just thinking about some things. Going to sleep was just one of them," Niphredil replied, suddenly feeling very wide awake.

Thinking it was rude to allow the king to stand in the hallway, she added, "Please, come in."

Aragorn followed his daughter into her room, taking a seat in the nearest chair. He watched as she sat down on the bed, dark eyes washing over him.

To Niphredil, he had the air of someone who was regal but not. He looked as if he could get down and work with his hands. She knew she was already attached to the idea that she had a father who wasn't Jay but there were still reservations there. She was not yet sure what to make of the man sitting in here room."I am sorry," he, finally, said.

"Sorry for what?" Niphredil, more than a little confused, asked.

She had only known this man for a scant few hours. In that short amount of time, he had said and done nothing to offend her in any way. As far as she was concerned, he had committed no transgressions against her.

"For not being part of your life. I should have been able to shoulder my responsibilities instead of forcing them to be sent away to deal with at a later time and palace," Aragorn replied.

"You shouldn't be sorry," Niphredil stated, "I don't think there would have been any way for you to have known about me unless you were told. I mean, I think I would have rather grown up here and to have gotten to known you when I was little but that's the past and you can't change that."

"I am very, very glad you feel that way. If it is any consolation to you, I would have loved to have known you when you were younger. That way, whatever damage that other would has caused you would have never occurred," Aragorn stated, sounding extremely relieved.

He had been afraid of, among other things that Niphredil would be feeling some form of resentment toward her parents. He could not blame her for feeling that way, if she did. The fact she did not, was a heavy burden off his chest. She seemed to want to allow them back into her life, to create a bond that should not have been broken.

"I am hoping to be a part of your new life here, if you would allow me to," he broached.

"And I am hoping you will give me the opportunity to be a part of yours. Though I am not sure how much of a princess I will be. There were no princesses where I lived," she retorted with a self depreciating laugh.

"You will learn quickly. There is not much to the role," Aragorn commented.

He stood to take his leave, not wanting to bother his daughter further."Can I ask if you were mad at her?" Niphredil blurted.

Part of her was worried that her presence would cause a rift between her parents. A rift created by the new feelings she assumed were going to crop up. The last thing she wanted to do was to destroy anyone's little world. The Joneses had accused her of enough destruction.

"At your mother?" Aragorn questioned, wanting to verify just who his daughter was referring to.

Niphredil, for her part, just nodded her head.For a handful of moments, Aragorn grew quiet. He appeared to be mulling the question over in his head, trying to decide how best to explain the answer to his child.

"For a time I thought I was. I realized, though, it was more a feeling of betrayal I was experiencing. Your mother and I have known each other for many, many years and I was under the assumption she could tell me anything," Aragorn replied, "It might have been for the better, in actuality. I am not sure I would have been able to go on my quest and risked my life if I knew I had a child at home waiting for me."

With an almost sheepish smile, he added, "I am also very sure your grandfather would not have been pleased with your mother and I when he discovered your existence."

Niphredil made a mental note to ask about this grandfather at a later time.

"May I ask you a question about Emma?" Niphredil brought up.

Something the elven princess said had caught her attention and was forcing questions to be asked in its regard.

"You may but I do not know if I will be able to provide you with proper answers for them," he replied.

"Why does she call her biological father her, well, biological father?" Niphredil asked.

Aragorn laughed at the question and at the strange words used by both Niphredil and Emma. In all of Middle Earth, he knew they were the only two to ever think of using such a strange term. He recalled asking Emma what the term meant and the explanation he was give regarding it.

"They do not get along, Emma and her father that is. It would be more accurate to say that he does not like her," Aragorn answered.

"Why? She seems like a nice enough child...elf...kid," she brought up, shrugging as she could not think of the proper term to describe Emma.

With a jolt she realized that she now lacked the proper terms to describe herself. The part of her mind that recalled her time in Middle Earth was providing her with a phrase but she was unsure about its nature. How would one be half-elven anyway?"Her father feels she was a mistake that should have never happened. He is angry with himself but has decided, in his infinite wisdom, to take those feelings out on her. She is very lucky her brother likes her very much," came Aragorn's reply.

"So it's just her and her brother? Do you know what became of her adoptive parents?" Niphredil inquired, knowing that her constant questioning was in all likelihood growing very annoying.

"They live here too. You will have the opportunity to meet them in time. They may be part of the reason Emma's father is not entirely keen on her presence here," Aragorn stated.

"Why?" Niphredil asked.

Aragorn threw a glance at his daughter, though it was not the sharp one she had been expecting. Instead, he seemed mildly amused by her questioning and appeared to be willing to take said questioning in stride. To her, he was well aware, everything was new. As familiarity breeds invisibility, newness bred questions. Questions that deserved answers.

"You are full of questions, child! Her mother's soul is a hold over from a previous age. By being given Emma, an age old myth was brought full circle," Aragorn replied.

"What myth?" she questioned, thriving on the knowledge she was being give.

"That is a story for another day, when it can be told in full. Now, though, you should take some rest. I believe you will be very busy the in the next few days," Aragorn answered.

Niphredil yawned and climbed into bed. The rush she had experienced when her father first walked in had worn off. She had become very, very tired once again.

"Good night, Aragorn," she said, sleepily.

Catching her completely off guard, Aragorn came over and, clumsily, tucked her in.

Placing a kiss on her forehead, he stated, "Sleep well, daughter."

(AN: I borrowed the "like a splinter in your mind driving you mad" thing from the first Matrix movie. I was watching it the other night and it was sort of sitting in my head all day.)


	19. Il Giorno Seguente

AN: Hey all! I'm sorry to be such a delinquent author. I'm trying as best I can to get up other chapters but the real world, such as it is, is trying to make me crazy. My Girl Scout troop too a massive number of kids and parents to see Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban on Friday and an equally massive number to the circus. The movie was excellent, by the way, but the book, as always, was better. Anyway, please keep the reviews coming! All of you are the best for putting up with me and I greatly appreciate your feedback. It makes it all worthwhile.  
  
LalaithoftheBruinen: I'm glad you liked the fact everyone is as awkward as humanly possible around each other. I figured that if everything went from strange to normal too quickly, it would have been not as real appearing. Plus, I didn't want it to be too clichéd. I'm glad you liked it and, as always, thanks for the review.  
  
hobbitgirl11: Congrats on being out of school! As for tips on dancing on Pointe, make sure you buy shoes that fit and are comfortable. My first pair of Pointe shoes were too big on me and it made using them not really all that fun. Also, make sure to use whatever you need to in your shoes to prevent blisters. Most people I know use lamb's wool. I'm glad you liked the chapter and the song!  
  
pixie88: Congrats on graduating! I can see how that would keep you busy! I'm happy to hear you like how this story is getting on. I don't think I could even write the whole super-happy reunion. I figure it would just naturally be as awkward as possible. Aragorn visited because he's just as curious about her as she his about him. I'm glad you liked it, though!  
  
sunni07: Yeah, the Real World isn't exactly a good place sometimes. I think I'd like to live in Rivendell or Lothlorien. Here's the latest chapter.  
  
PixiePea000: Blasted squiddies! Tell your operator or captain to get the EMP ready, lest you wind up like poor crew of the Osiris. She'll get around to talking to her mother. Agent Elrond Smith may be on his way but I'm not saying anything. He's busy with Mr. Anderson. The dynamic duo and friends are on Agent watch.  
  
LadyJadePerendhil: Don't worry; I'm not breaking anyone up. I'm glad you liked his answer, though. Elrond may pop up to give his feelings on the entire situation, eventually. Here's the next installment!  
  
Midnight-Insomniac1532: Thanks!  
  
Calm Serene: I'm glad you like the story and how it ties into the other one. Here's the next part.  
  
Lindiel Eryn: Yeah, it's heading toward sequel as we speak. I'm glad you like how the story's been going, though!  
  
Elainor: Well, wait no longer! Here's some more!  
  
A Monkey's Harp: EEP! No computer must have been rough! I liked the Coldplay song so I put it in there. Plus, you don't see a lot of their songs around in stories. I happy to hear you liked their little discussion.  
  
Disclaimer: I own nothing except for a handful of made up characters. Tolkien thought up the concept and, as such, it belongs to him. I'm just playing in his world. I'm broke and in college. All I own are Pointe Shoes.  
  
Niphredil walked along one of the courtyards in her new home, replaying the previous night's events. The finding out of who she really was, the discovery of who, and what, her parents were and how she fit into the entire scheme of things. The visit from her father and how he had treated her. They all played in her mind like a never-ending loop.  
  
It was strange that twenty-four hours, maybe less, could make such a difference in one person's life. She was no longer just Niphredil, the unwanted daughter of some rich family who had all these strange memories of a life that seemed more fiction then face. Now she was Princess Niphredil, daughter of the High King Aragorn and his wife Arwen.  
  
The transition was strange to say the least.  
  
Where her parents were at the moment, she could not say.  
  
She assumed her father was doing whatever kings did as part of their job. The only kings she had ever heard about were in history books and most of them didn't seem to care all that much about their kingdoms. All they wanted was more power. From the look of the city that spiraled down below her, power came somewhere far after the people.  
  
Her mother might have been with her father but, just as easily, she could have been someplace else. Niphredil was well aware of the fact a one-on-one conversation with her was in her future but she was not all that keen on having the conversation at the moment. It wasn't that she blamed her mother for anything. More that she did not want to add to her already jumbled up feelings. Once she dealt with the feelings in her head, she would speak with her mother.  
  
Someone, somewhere in her vicinity was playing music. Reedy, woodsy sounds filtered through the vast courtyard catching Niphredil's attention. The tune was sad, almost contemplative as if the person playing was dealing with their own feelings.  
  
As she walked to find the source of the music, another instrument joined in, picking up the tune and carrying it along. Other instruments joined in, filling out the melody...sending the same sad tune soaring through the air.  
  
She found the mystery musician, apparently court minstrels practicing in the gardens for some reason. With them, was a small silvery-white haired child. She seemed to be lost in her own world, dancing along to the melancholy tune.  
  
The motions were too practiced to be anything but trained. Niphredil recognized them as ordinary ballet steps, ballet steps from the world she had so recently left. That could only mean the child was Emma; the only other person to have been brought back home to Middle Earth.  
  
The tune wound down, the musicians returning to whatever posts they had been manning prior to the practice.  
  
"You're a ballerina?" Niphredil questioned, appearing behind Emma but not catching her off guard.  
  
The young elf-child nodded happily and said, "I use to take dance lessons in the other place. I dance here, too. Well, not here in Gondor but at home."  
  
"Where is your home anyway?" Niphredil questioned, curiously.  
  
"A way's away. I live in Mirkwood," Emma answered, "It's not all like here you know."  
  
Niphredil turned the name over in her mind. It seemed to indicate a forest, making some sense because the child was an elf and, in the other world, most elves lived in the woods, that was murky and dark. Not at all an ideal place to live it seemed to her.  
  
"Is it...nice there?" Niphredil broached, trying to find the right words to use to test her assumption about Emma's home.  
  
"Nice enough, I guess. I live in this huge palace carved from naturally occurring caves. The woods around us use to be dangerous but they're getting better now as the shadow, as my brother calls it, retreats. He says it's still not safe to go walking alone but someday it might be. I miss the tree though, especially when I'm here," Emma explained.  
  
The pair grew quiet for a moment, each trying to find out the path this conversation was taking.  
  
Emma had promised Aragorn she would try and befriend his daughter and she had no intention of breaking that promise. To her, there was no time like the present to start trying to keep said promise.  
  
"What do you think of it here?" Emma brought up, "I remember my first impressions of this city when my brother brought me here to talk to your father."  
  
Niphredil stared at the young elf for a moment, trying to puzzle out her ulterior motives. No one would be this friendly unless there was some reason behind it. In the other world that seemed to be the norm. Then again, this was a whole other situation, with other types of people involved. Perhaps the rules would be different as well.  
  
"It's actually very nice here. I mean, when I first saw this place last night I was a little afraid of everything. It's so very different here than it is in the other world. But, in a way, it felt right to be here, like I was home for the first time in a long time," Niphredil admitted.  
  
With a laugh, she added, "It might take some getting use to, though. Last night was the first night I could remember in a long time where I didn't hear cars in my sleep."  
  
Emma smiled, remembering the first few times she had to deal with the nearly silent and almost totally dark nights of Middle Earth. It had been a little disconcerting, to say the least, when compared with the noisy nights of the other world.  
  
"It does take some getting use to. This place is very different than the other world. I mean, my father- not my biological father but my other father- still does not know what to do without television," Emma pointed out.  
  
"I was never big on television. I always had my book, martial arts, and singing to keep me busy. Well, that and Girl Scouts," Niphredil commented.  
  
A stunned expression crossed Emma's face but Niphredil could not figure out what it was for. She went over her last sentence in her mind, hoping to not had said something offensive  
  
"You were a Girl Scout?" Emma asked, sounding incredulous.  
  
"Is that so hard to believe?" Niphredil retorted, unsure if she should or should not be offended by Emma's question.  
  
"Well, sort of but that is not the point. I use to be a Girl Scout too," she admitted, sheepishly.  
  
Niphredil laughed a bit. Girl Scouts, though both a fun and miserable experience, was something that always inspired shared stories and the inevitable cookie joke.  
  
"So very sorry," she joked.  
  
A sudden thought, one she had the night before but did not have the time to deal with, occurred to Niphredil. She had seen this child, and her older brother, before walking the streets of her former neighborhood.  
  
"I know this is going to sound strange but have you been to Westchester recently. More specifically, Salem Center?" Niphredil asked.  
  
Emma nodded and gave the older girl a sheepish smile. She and Legolas had taken part in a strange sort of surveillance, watching Niphredil before they could bring her to Middle Earth. They had wanted to get use to her habits, to her comings and goings, trying to find a good time to approach her with the truth. Emma had been the one to explain the idea of martial arts to her co-conspirators Gandalf, Legolas, and Aragorn.  
  
"Actually, my brother and I have. We use to watch you because we needed to know when it would be easiest to confront you. I'm sorry if we scared you any. It was not part of our plan," Emma admitted.  
  
"So it was you, I knew I had seen you and your brother before. Did it feel good to go back?" Niphredil asked.  
  
"Not at all. I only went back because your father asked me to help. I do not like going back there, not at all. It does not feel right to," Emma, quickly, stated.  
  
"Think it's going to be like that for me, if I were to go back?" Niphredil mused, aloud.  
  
Emma gave a small shrug and commented, "Who says you are going to want to go back? You may find that your home is more here then there. Once you give this place a chance, there is a lot to it."  
  
A silence grew between the two young girls, minds working on overdrive.  
  
"So, you dance? That is pretty neat. Maybe someday we could work out a song I know with a dance you know. It could be interesting," Niphredil, slowly, suggested.  
  
"That would be nice. Your dad is not a big dancer himself but he likes to watch others dance. He might find it very interesting," Emma said, accepting the suggestion.  
  
"Good," Niphredil said, finality in her voice, "now we just have to find and song and a dance."  
  
She started to laugh at how strange the idea sounded to her, prompting Emma to do the same. The pair had discovered their common roots, the world they had lived in and the funny coincidence their hobbies of choice provided. 


	20. La Madre e La Figlia

AN: Hi all! Sorry for the delay but here's the next chapter. I really appreciate the fact all of you are sticking around even if I'm being a bit slow with this story. You all are the best! Your reviews are very much appreciated and valued, especially since I'm taking Creative Wiring next year in school. They're so very helpful in pointing out things that are good and bad. Please keep them coming...you guys rock like a box of socks.

PixiePea000: See, sometimes I don't write cliffhangers! Though you know I am very fond of them (for both this and the dynamic duo's story ...but isn't that whole thing based on small cliffhangers?) I'm sure Sparks or whoever you're calling will pick up when you call him. Watch out for the Squiddies! They're not very nice! Anywho, Gollum and watch out for Agent Elrond Smith (the dynamic duo and friends lost track of him so he's on the loose)!

LadyJadePerendhil: I'm going to twist around cannon a bit and have Elrond show up, eventually. Let's just say Arwen has to tie up that loose end and explain Niphredil to him. Plus, I like Elrond...even though, on occasion, he reminds me of Agent Smith from the Matrix. You'll see if Emma and Niphredil actually become friends and I like your suggestion for a song. I've been trying to find one.

sunni07: My sister watches the Real World. I'm not sure I'd want to be on that show. It always seems like there are problems in their house. No matter how short, I appreciate reviews!

hobbitgirl11: I had dress rehearsal last Sunday. Out of the five dances I'm in, only two of them (jazz and my private) went off well. The two tap dances and ballet dance I'm in turned out to be a disaster on wheels. The ballet got ruined because one group totally messed up on placement and we all had to trying to figure out what to do about it. Thankfully, our show is at the end of the month. I hope you like point! It's a good time!

Elainor: You'll see if the two of them become friends or not, eventually. I'm glad you liked the chapter!

Disclaimer: I own nothing except for a handful of made up characters. Tolkien thought up the concept and, as such, it belongs to him. I'm just playing in his world. I'm broke and in college. All I own are Pointe Shoes.

Two figures on horseback rode around the fields encircling the city. They ride without haste and, seemingly, without purpose. It was just an enjoyable ride shared by two people.

One rode on a horse completely free of saddle and other pieces of riding equipment. Hither and thither she led her horse with quietly spoken words in a very melodic sounding language.

The other figure, however, was a sharp contrast. Her horse was fully outfitted, bearing a saddle and other pieces of ridding equipment. Two large saddlebags, rested on either side of the chocolate colored horse. The rider seemed a bit hesitant on her mount, trying her best to keep the creature in control. For the moment she was succeeding, though, earlier on, she was having more than her fair share of issues.

The saddleless rider halted her horse, a gray creature, and stared at their surroundings.

"Would you like to stop for lunch? I am sure you are quite tired after this young day's events," she asked, looking over her shoulder at the other rider.

The other rider considered the offer. Breakfast, such as it was that day, seemed like an age and a half ago. Her stomach, until that moment quiet silent, growled loudly. Apparently she was hungry.

"I think that would be a very wise idea," the other rider said, trying to get off the back of her mount.

The rider on the horse without a saddle smiled at the efforts and climbed off her mount. She offered her hands to the other rider who, sheepishly, took them. Accepting help had never been a strong suit of the other rider.

"Thanks," she mumbled her voice small.

"There is no need to thank me, Niphredil," Arwen, the rider on the saddleless horse, countered.

Niphredil gave her mother a half hearted shrug, starting to pull items out of one of the saddlebags.

Working together, the pair managed to set out a simple picnic lunch, complete with a homespun blanket to sit on. The picnic had been Aragorn's idea. A way to get mother and daughter some away time from the citadel and all its ears. He was well aware of the fact, from speaking with both mother and daughter; there were things that needed to be discussed and worked out alone.

They ate, keeping the conversation on the day to day workings of the citadel. Niphredil had never imagined the sheer volume of people it took to keep the building in one piece, from maids to guards and back again. Arwen was glad to indulge the child's questions, even if they were about the most obvious of things at times.

Meal finished, an uncomfortable silence filled the space between the two females. There were questions there, things that had to be asked and answered but neither knew how to start that process.

"You know," Niphredil commented, lying on her stomach, head propped up by her hands, "doing this does not seem like something a queen should be doing."

Niphredil could recall the short day's events very clearly. She recalled being woken up from her usual light sleep and ordered to get dressed. Her mind still incased in a sleep addled fog, the half-elven maiden found that she and her mother were on a raiding mission. As they quickly ate, Niphredil aided her mother in packing enough supplies for a simple picnic lunch. From the citadel's vast kitchen, the pair stole into the stables where she found two horses waiting.

The sneaking around did not seem like something a queen should know how to do, in Niphredil's opinion anyway. She knew her opinion could be wrong, though. Her image of kings and queens, and princesses like her, stemmed from history books and fairy tales. Two very different sources to say the least.

Arwen gave a low laugh and stated, "Where I grew up, I had two very good teachers. Older brothers are like that. They would be disappointed to hear that I was not passing the skills on to my daughter."

"Older brothers? So, I have uncles?" Niphredil questioned.

Arwen averted her gaze, staring off into the distance behind her daughter's head. Niphredil, for her part, just shook her head. Every time family was brought up, her parents grew strangely quiet. It was as if they feared speaking about relative and things of that nature. It was annoying, to say the least, but they had to have their reasons for doing it...didn't they?

"May I ask you a question?" Niphredil broached, breaking the growing silence between the pair.

There were questions that she had to ask, long time ones that she had been harboring since she was just a young child living in the Muggle's world. Part of her, though, was afraid to ask the questions. Afraid of the fact she wasn't going to like the answers she was going to receive.

"You may," Arwen answered, "Do not be afraid to ask me whatever is on your mind.""Was I sent away because I was unwanted? In the other world, parents sometimes send their children away because they do not want them," she babbled.

Looking a bit ashamed for assuming something so heartless and extreme, Niphredil, hastily, added, "I am not saying that was your reason but...well, I'm not sure."

Arwen knew that this question would, eventually, come up in a conversation. In the short time Niphredil had been in Middle Earth, Arwen had tried to steer clear of this one topic. The subject was very sensitive for her and she worried her daughter would not find the reasoning acceptable.

"There are many reasons you were sent away but being unwanted was not one of them. I can assure you that, if you were unwanted, you would not be sitting her today," Arwen assured her daughter, trying not to sound too much like she was lecturing her.

Niphredil opened her mouth to say something or to ask another one of her seemingly never ending questions but a look from her mother stopped her. There was more that had to be said and explained before the child could speak. The entire reasoning had to be stated so the larger picture could be understood.

"Some of my reasons were purely selfish and form them I am ashamed. Other reasons were for your own good, to help keep you safe and sound. Those I am proud of," Arwen continued.

"What are the reasons?" Niphredil interjected, speaking quickly before her mother could silence her with a look again.

"I sent you away because there was a threat growing here. If you were to be harmed in the ensuing conflict, I would not be able to live with myself. Sending you away was the only means by which I could protect you. Even if that meant you being separated from me," Arwen began. She took a deep breath and let it out, steadying herself for the other part of her explanation.

"The other reasons, the selfish ones, I can say I am not proud of. I sent you with Patrick in order to prevent my father, your grandfather, from learning of your existence. I could not saw what he would do or say if he learned your father and I engaged in activities he had strictly forbidden," Arwen added.

Niphredil was quiet for a moment, soaking up what she had learned. Someplace in her mind the first reason, the need to provide some sort of protection, made sense. Kay always talked about wanting to protect the twins for the world. Why would her mother be any different?

The second set of reasons made her feel slightly glad her parents never spoke about the rest of their family. Any person who forbade two people from seeing each other and would do something to a child did not seem like a person she wanted to meet.

"Why were you forbidden from seeing Aragorn?" Niphredil questioned though she was unsure if it was an appropriate question for her to be asking."My father made your father promise to never to pledge his heart to anyone until he claimed his rightful destiny as High King. Part of me feels my father made your father promise that because he was sure Aragorn would not make an attempt to claim the throne. He was a reluctant king in the same way you are a reluctant princess," Arwen answered, carefully.

Niphredil smiled a bit at the idea of her father, whom she had decided fit the role of a king, being unwilling to take up the role. She had her reasons for being unwilling but that was something bread from her time in the other world.

"That does not seem very fair," the half-elven maiden commented dryly.

"As they say," Arwen countered, "Love finds a way and has consequences that are not entirely foreseen. Pleasant surprises can result."

The last part of her comment was directed towards the half-elven child resting on the blanket in front of her. She was a surprise, no doubt, but not a negative one.

"Why would they say you were not wanted? As far as I knew, there was nothing wrong with you," Arwen asked her daughter.

Niphredil thought for a moment, biting her lip as she did so. There were so many reasons she had been told she was unwanted, from her looks to the way she acted. To discuss them all, she felt, would take a life time.

"A lot of reasons. Mostly because I looked different from the others my age to the fact I had a tendency to speak in my own language sometimes and claim the trees spoke to me," Niphredil answered with a slight shrug, off looking considering her position.

"Different for a child of man but not for what you truly are. You fit that role quite well," Arwen stated.

"What am I anyway? Emma tried explaining it but she said she did not understand it all that well either," Niphredil brought up, eager to have that idea explained and the conversation turned from her perceived oddities.

"I will try to explain that in a moment. I would like to hear more about why these humans said you were unwanted. What language did you speak what was strange? Do you remember any of it?" Arwen questioned, sounding as eager as her daughter.

Thinking back, her mind wandering though her time with the Jones family, Niphredil searched for the strange language she use to speak. The one that appeared so effect in luring birds over to her.

She fought the urge to laugh at just how ridiculous she sounded as she blurted out a few fragments of the strange language she use to speak.

Much to her surprise, Arwen seemed pleased with the display.

"The language you speak, and those Muggles so rudely called strange, is a form of elvish. I started teaching it to you when you were just a very young child. It is a pleasant surprise that you can recall portions of it. The rest you will learn, given time," she stated with a smile."As for your other reason behind your so-called strangeness, the idea that trees could speak to you is part of an age old story here. There are trees that speak and move just as you do. It is in your blood to be able to speak with living things. The part of you that is elven allows for it," she added.

"How is only part of me elven? That doesn't seem to make sense," Niphredil blurted.

She knew it was possible, in the other world, to be part one nationality and part another. That only mattered, though, if illnesses were involved. She could not see how it would give her strange abilities.

"I am not the lore master my father is and I do not want to confuse you any further but I will try to explain this to you as best I can. Your father is of mortal descent, a child of man. I was elven- half-elven as you are- and, as such, I had to make a choice. I chose to be mortal," she attempted to explain.

"But if you are mortal and he is mortal, how am I half-elven?" Niphredil asked.

"You were born before I gave up my immortality, earning you the standing of the half-elven. I will say nothing more for your father and I have sent for a proper lore master to help you understand," Arwen answered.

A thoughtful silence, such as silence was outdoors, filled the space between the two females. The discomfort that had existed between the pair had broken to a certain degree. The bond between them being built back up, brick by slow brick.

"Did Aragorn want me here" Niphredil asked, quietly, "or was he forced into having me brought back?"

For a moment, Arwen was taken aback by the question. She could not understand why her daughter would want to know such a thing.

It hit her, suddenly, that Niphredil was still very much jaded by her life in the other world. Trust was something not given quickly and lightly. It had to be earned. This was her way of trying to increase her father's earning of her trust.

"Of course he wanted you here. It was his ideas that created the mission to retrieve you and bring you back where you truly belong. Believe me when I say that to you," Arwen replied. She looked up, gauging the sun's position in the sky.

"We're going to have to get going, right?" Niphredil mused, catching her mother's motion.

Arwen nodded standing and brushing herself off. Niphredil did like wise, stepping off the blanket.

Watching her mother begin to clean up, she offered, "Allow me to help you with that, _nana_."

Niphredil blinked as if she was unsure of what she just said. She had meant to call her mother or something very like that word. The word that she had said, however, was not what she wanted to say.

For her part, Arwen also stopped. There was something odd about the way Niphredil had addressed her. When they spoke, she was usually just "Arwen."

The difference hit her like a bolt from the blue. Niphredil had addressed her as "_nana_," the elven word for "mother" or, more aptly, "mommy." It was what she called her when she was but a child living in Lothlorien all those long years ago.

"I could use your help, Niphredil," Arwen, slightly stunned, stated.

Picnic cleaned up, the half-elven child allowed her mother to aid her in mounting her horse.

"How about a race to the gates?" Arwen brought up, needing to get back into the city before a certain party arrived later on in the day.

"Yes, let's race," Niphredil commented, though she was pretty sure she was going to lose.

A shrill whistle split the air and the queen and princess- mother and daughter- made their way back to the city. There was still much to be done in preparation for a certain part's arrival.


	21. Speranza

AN: Happy Monday everyone! I'm working on a Girl Scout Patch Ceremony (better known in my Troop as a Green and White) for the end of the week. I'm still not sure how and why they put me in charge of the whole thing but my sister and I are working on it. I hope everyone's having luck with all of their end-of-the-school-year activities and are ready for a good summer vacation. Summer is always fun! Anywho, your reviews are always appreciated. They make my day/week. I'm really glad all of you are hanging around for the ride!  
  
LadyJadePerendhil: I'm so very glad you like the story and I appreciate your song suggestion. There's a semi-spin off sequel in my head someplace for this story (I think). I'm happy to see you liked how Arwen acted in the chapter. I figured she probably wouldn't be all that proud of her actions when considering them at the moment.  
  
Elainor: Ah...in the words of Seraph (one of my all time favorite characters from _The Matrix Reloaded_/_Revolutions_) "You do not truly know someone until you fight them." You shall see if father and daughter get around to sparring each other. As for mother and daughter, their relationship will improve albeit slowly.  
  
hobbitgirl11: I hope your first Pointe lesson went well! I bet you didn't fall at all! I remember, my first year on Pointe, we didn't really dance in them either. We just did barre and some floor exercises with them. As for my dances, for one tap we're doing some music from movies with Gregory Hines in them and, in the other we're doing Celia Cruz's music (Spanish music). One ballet we're doing to two Beethoven pieces, one being his 5th Symphony and I can't remember the name of but we're doing Pointe to it. I'm doing the song "Scarborough Fair" for my private and jazz is some music from the 1990s. We got everything worked out in class last week for our performance on Sunday.  
  
kalika55: Wait no longer! Here's the next chapter!  
  
sunni07: Oh! I'm sorry you were confuzzled! That's never a good thing. I'm glad the chapter cleared things up for you. I never realized the chapter titles could be confusing. Thanks for pointing that out. Here's another new chapter, straight from my computer.  
  
LalaithoftheBruinen: I can't say who the lore master is but I can assure you Elrond is still in Middle Earth. After all, he's got to find out about his daughter and granddaughter! I also have to get him in the story because he's one of my favorite characters.  
  
Disclaimer: I own nothing except for a handful of made up characters. Tolkien thought up the concept and, as such, it belongs to him. I'm just playing in his world. I'm broke and in college. All I own are Pointe Shoes.  
  
Niphredil was beginning to wonder if the span of a day in Middle Earth differed any from the span of a day in the world she had once lived in. She'd cleaned up after her morning ride with her mother, changing out of scruffy riding clothing into something far cleaner and made her way into one of the higher points in the citadel.  
  
According to her mother, she was to wait there until someone came to get her. Her assumption had been that this sort of banishment had something to do with the strange party that had just entered the city.  
  
The party's importance must have been great, she assumed, for both her parents, along with a mixed honor guard consisting of guards wearing a strange looking tree on their chests as well as a few knights wearing odd looking orange, blue, and black colors, had gone down to meet it on the first level. With them others. People she assumed were of high rank or somehow important to the city.  
  
Quietly, like a church mouse, another figure entered the room.  
  
"You get sent up here, too?" Niphredil questioned without turning her head.  
  
Dressed in a tunic and breeches, looking as much like a female version of her brother as possible, Emma slid to the floor of the small room.  
  
"My brother said I was to stay up here with you until someone comes to retrieve me," she stated, some disappointment in her voice.  
  
Since finding out there were to be visitors- important ones at that- Emma's curiosity had been piqued. She had assumed she was going to be able to go down with her brother to greet them but that was not to come to pass. Like Niphredil, she was going to have to wait until a later time to discover the nature of the visitors.  
  
"Where is your brother anyway?" Niphredil asked, curiously.  
  
It was rare to see the two elves separated for very long. Niphredil had assumed that he was her keeper in this large city, despite the presence of her human "parents."  
  
"He went down to greet the visitors with my parents. They said my mother was of high enough rank and of enough importance to go down and meet them," Emma replied, glumly.  
  
"Think of this way, maybe this surprise will be in our favor. That is why we are not allowed to meet these visitor people," Niphredil stated, trying to make the elven child feel better.  
  
The disappointed tone in her voice had shown Niphredil just what was going through Emma's mind. She was hurt by the fact she had been left behind in the citadel. It made her feel that she was not important enough to take part in whatever events were going on down there.  
  
In actuality, Niphredil felt much the same way. She was not all that keen on being kept in the dark by her parents. It made her feel unwanted. Of course, if there was a good reason for her temporary banishment, she would understand but no reason had been given yet.  
  
Emma gave the half-elven female a wan smile. That was a possibility she hadn't considered.  
  
"That could be it," she commented, voice changing for the better, "My brother never really said why I was not allowed to go down with him and my parents."  
  
"That's the spirit," Niphredil said with a laugh, she, herself, feeling better at that idea.  
  
It was better than one of the ideas she had been toying with. The idea that this mysterious visitor was some sort of enemy to the city and her parents wanted her away for her own good. Of course, that idea was preferable to the fact she could have been kept away because her parents were afraid to have her seen within the walls of the city.  
  
The latter idea seemed inane, given what she had learned from them. Both had made it clear that they wanted her both in the city and in their lives.  
  
The two females lapsed into silence, both watching the party wind their way up the many levels of the seven-leveled city. With the gates not being in a straight line from level to level, the party had to twist here and there to try to get to the city's pinnacle.  
  
"So, did you have many friends in the other world?" Niphredil asked, curiously.  
  
To her, Emma seemed like the friendly sort. The type of person willing to go out on a limb and make friends with the new kid in the class or the new Girl Scout in the troop. The one who, most likely, had many friends in her circle.  
  
Much to Niphredil's surprise, Emma shook her head.  
  
"Do not get me wrong, I tried to make friends but it never seemed to work. I was not enough like the others to make friends. I use to take dance lessons in the other world. The people I danced with did not want to be friends with me because I looked and acted differently. Never, actually, bothered me though," Emma answered with an absented minded shrug, "How about you?"  
  
Niphredil thought for a moment, trying to figure out the answer to that question. It would be hard to explain her closest friend to Emma but, given the fact the young elven child had come from the other world, it might be able to explain it to her without too much fuss.  
  
"I didn't have a lot of friends either, so don't feel bad. Like you people figure I was just too weird to be friends with. I did have one really good friend, though. Probably the only person I truly miss from the other world," Niphredil, finally, answered.  
  
"What was she like?" Emma questioned, sounding quite interested.  
  
Her interest was borne out of true curiosity. Anyone who would befriend someone who was, generally, accounted as being too strange, too odd to bother with, must have been a very different sort of person.  
  
"Her name was Hope. She was a wee bit of a kid with mousy brown hair. It looked like you could crack her in half if you tried hard enough. She was one tough kid, though, given what she was and stuff," Niphredil answered, being vaguer on purpose.  
  
"What was she?" Emma asked.  
  
She'd been sworn to secrecy about what Hope, and Hope's friends and family, actually were. Of course, it had been quite the accident when she found out herself...  
  
_**FLASHBACK  
**_  
It was freezing cold out; frosts crusting in the ground at their feet and, as far as many of the Junior Girl Scouts of Troop 6417 were concerned, on their faces and hands as well. Only crazy people should have been out in the biting cold. Well, crazy people and Junior Girl Scouts who were working on the "Sky Search" merit badge.  
  
Most of the scouts were joking around, talking and giggling while the guest speaker pointed out constellations to them, in an effort to free their minds from the bitter cold.  
  
Niphredil was not among them. The cold wasn't bothering her as it was bothering her step-sister Jane a few feet away. She was listing to the speaker with rapt attention, somehow feeling a kinship to the stars in the sky. Every one of his words were being absorbed, ready to be repeated at a latter meeting.  
  
Standing a few inches from Niphredil, wrapped up in a heavy coat and hat, was Hope. The little girl, Jane's age but in no way her friend, coughed roughly into her gloved hand. Despite all the clothing she was wearing, Hope was still visibly shivering. The cough wasn't helping the situation by any means.  
  
"Go inside, Hope," Niphredil whispered, splitting her attention between the speaker and her friend, "I'm sure Miss Sandy will understand why you skipped the speaker."  
  
"No way!" Hope quietly, exclaimed, "I'm fine!"  
  
"No...no you're not. For Pete's sake, Hope, you're sick as a dog to begin with. I'm sure this isn't helping you any," Niphredil countered.  
  
Actually, according to Niphredil's best estimation, Hope was always sick. It was rare to see the small Junior Girl Scout not coughing or sneezing.  
  
"Allergies," she had, once, said, "and a propensity for getting respiratory infections."  
  
That was the reason for her always sneezing or coughing.  
  
"Don't worry about me. I'm fine," Hope retorted, with a small cough.  
  
Niphredil just silently shook her head. Hope was thickheaded sometimes and felt she knew what was best for herself. Nine times out of ten she was right. That one-tenth of the time was the part Niphredil was concerned about at the moment.  
  
As the speaker continued to talk, a large cloud passed, obscuring the sky and making it difficult to discern the tiny pinpricks of light they had been staring at.  
  
"Don't worry, gang," he called in a jovial voice, trying to get the waning attention of the troop, "I'm sure it'll pass."  
  
For several moments, feeling like an eternity in the freezing cold, the Scouts stood waiting for the large cloud to pass.  
  
"I guess we're going to have to finish this another time. I'm sorry girls," Miss Sandy called over the growing din.  
  
"Are we going to have snack?" questioned a large, burly girl by the name of Olivia.  
  
The troop moved toward the entrance to their meeting place. All except Hope. The small Scout appeared to be deep in concentration, something out of place in the fight to get back into the warm building.  
  
"Wait, Miss Sandy, I think we can continue," the speaker called.  
  
The troop, audibly, groaned and turned back towards the speaker.  
  
The cloud, by no means, had moved but, somehow, the tiny pinpricks of light had returned, organizing themselves over the clouds.  
  
"Isn't that amazing? I'm cold I want to go in," stated Alyssa, a rather bratty girl with a chip on her shoulder the size of a small country.  
  
"No, I do believe we can finish this discussion now," Sandy, the Junior Girl Scout Leader, stated firmly.  
  
The lecture started up again, constellations being pointed out to the girls.  
  
It was then Niphredil noticed a strange glow, the color of blue starlight, off to her side. Ever so slightly, she turned and saw something that caused her eyes to go wide as saucers.  
  
Hope stood bathed in a light blue glow, her eyes shut tight. The small Junior Girl Scout rubbed her hands together and opened them. In between her palms, were tiny spheres of blue light. The same spheres that were in the sky above them.  
  
"What in the world?" Niphredil mused, suddenly realizing just what her friend was.  
  
Several Girl Scout meetings passed, before Niphredil could work up the courage to question her friend about the display during the lecture.  
  
It was the end of a meeting, closing having just been said and sung. Jane had gone off to chat with one of her friends, leaving Niphredil alone. Walking around the large meeting hall, she, literally, bumped into a rather dejected looking Hope.  
  
"What's wrong, Hope?" Niphredil questioned, concerned.  
  
"Nothing. My mom's just going to be a little late, that's all," she answered, ruefully.  
  
"Can I ask you a question? I mean, I don't want to pry or anything but..." Niphredil requested, tailing off.  
  
Hesitantly, Hope nodded her head. It almost seemed that the small Junior Scout knew where this conversation was going.  
  
"It was you, wasn't it? The one who made those stars over the clouds," Niphredil broached, carefully.  
  
For a moment, panic crossed Hope's face. It was obvious that she had been found out. Niphredil's question had been answered in an instant.  
  
"Please, don't tell anyone. I don't want to cause trouble. I just want to be like the other kids," she pleaded, "My mother wouldn't be pleased at all if they found out. It's enough that I had to do that even though I know better than that."  
  
"Hope," Niphredil stated, trying not to sound shocked, "I'm not going to say a word to anyone. I was the only one who saw you. I just wanted to know. What are you, anyway? I mean, other than a fellow Girl Scout and my only buddy in this entire place."  
  
The smaller Girl Scout squirmed, uncomfortable in the given situation. She knew she wasn't supposed to say anything about who and what she was and what she wasn't. Niphredil was her friend, though, a fellow outcast in the troop. She'd understand...right?  
  
"I'm a mutant. I live at the Xavier School for Gifted Youngsters," she admitted, "My mother, a mutant, teaches at the school. She and my dad, a mutant, take care of my brother- a mutant too -and I."  
  
Niphredil tried not to looked shocked but wasn't entirely successful. To find out one of your best friends was a mutant, something that was universally feared, could catch anyone off guard.  
  
"How long have you known you were a mutant?" Niphredil questioned, feeling exceedingly dumb.  
  
"All my life. I was born with some of my powers already active. See, I'm not exactly an atypical mutant either. Both my parents are mutants; genetics stated there was a one in four chance of a genetically pure mutant child. I'm that one in four chance...one hundred percent pure mutant," Hope answered, a small hint of pride in her voice.  
  
"That's wicked, Hope, really it is. What are your powers? I mean, what you were doing out there that night?" the older female asked, actually interested.  
  
Hope knew she had already said too much, revealed too much about herself and her family. Her friend, though, did not seem bothered by the fact she had just found out someone she had known was a mutant...one of the highest order.  
  
"At home, they call me 'Starsheen.' Well, my that's the moniker my Godfather gave me but that's neither here nor there. I can control ambient starlight and use it to do all sorts of things. That's what I was doing the other night, making stars out of starlight. I have a few other powers but that's my main one," Hope answered, quietly.  
  
"You have to promise," the young mutant Girl Scout broached, "not to breathe a word of this to anyone. Not your foster parents or anyone like that. If they were to find out..."  
  
"You've got my word, Hope. I promise I'm not going to say anything. Scout's Honor. If I did, they'd force you out of the troop and I wouldn't have anyone to take to anymore," Niphredil promised, holding up her middle three fingers on her right hand.  
  
**_END FLASHBACK_**  
  
"What was she?" Emma asked, again.  
  
"She was just different, that's all. I promised her I wouldn't say," Niphredil replied, keeping her word to a friend she was pretty sure she wasn't going to see ever again.  
  
Emma nodded her head, accepting her answer.  
  
"She must have been some kind of different," Emma commented, "to make friends with someone no one wanted to be friends with."  
  
"That she was," Niphredil mused, "that she was." 


	22. Genitori e Bambini

AN: Hi all! I hope everyone's doing alright and are having a good start of summer. I had my big dance performance thing yesterday and I'm happy to say everything went well. No one in my classes fell and only one person, a teacher no less, messed up big time during one of the dances. Anyway, glad to see reviews as usual. It's always a surprise when I get them and I appreciate everything in them! All of you are the best!  
  
sunni07: Sorry about the sci-fi in the story. My Physics and Biochemistry class called me "skiffy" for the end of the semester because I'm a sci-fi person. I'm glad you liked the chapter and the way the sci-fi fit into it.  
  
LadyJadePerendhil: I actually have an entire story written about Hope/Starsheen. I just have to get it typed up. In that story you get her full family history, including who her parents are. I'm glad you liked the character, though. I was unsure about how that particular character was going to go off. You'll see who had shown up and just why Niphredil was kept away. You were right though. Emma was sent up there to keep her company.  
  
PixiePea000: Got to love Girl Scouts, right? Especially certain people who shall remain nameless for now! I'm glad you liked the use of everyone's favorite mutants. Thank your operator for getting me an exit. Mine was detained with a certain dress wearing rebel. By the way, Gollum and watch out for Agent Elrond Smith (the dynamic duo are trying to find him but are having no luck).  
  
LalaithoftheBruinen: Elrond's cool for a variety of reasons. My sister, for whatever reason she has because she's not a Lord of the Rings fan, walks around sometimes repeating anything and everything Elrond says with the occasional "Mr. Anderson" thrown in for good measure. The identity of the visitors will be revealed very soon!  
  
_Ada_--- elven word for "father"  
  
Disclaimer: I own nothing except for a handful of made up characters. Tolkien thought up the concept and, as such, it belongs to him. I'm just playing in his world. I'm broke and in college. All I own are Pointe Shoes.  
  
"_Ada_, I am very pleased to see you," Arwen said, embracing the tall, stern figure that appeared in the entrance way to the garden.  
  
The tall, stern figure returned the embrace but regarded the female with careful eyes. Her invitation to come to Gondor was highly unexpected to say the least, catching the elven lord off guard. Despite his reservations, he had come into the city with his twin sons.  
  
From the start, she appeared to be in good health and her spirits seemed to be high. Almost as high as they were on the day she had married Aragorn.  
  
"As am I, my daughter," Elrond stated, breaking the embrace and running a healer's eyes over his daughter.  
  
Her heath seemed to be just as well as her spirits. The reasoning behind the unexpected summons to the city bothered the elven lord but he was not going to mention anything to his daughter about it. Perhaps the summons had something to do with her high spirits...  
  
"Come, sit," Arwen offered, pointing to a set of chairs halfway hidden between wild looking trees, "the citadel has many ears at this time of day."  
  
Away the pair walked, leaving the entrance of the garden behind them. Her comment about the building having ears was true- his home of Rivendell was the same way- but why this concerned her at the present moment was yet another mystery Elrond was left to ponder.  
  
His eyes roved over the building, taking in the white marble and the windows. Looking out over the garden were the windows of the royal family's private quarters. The royal family Elrond knew consisted of just his daughter, Arwen, and her husband the high king, Aragorn.  
  
"What is this about, Arwen?" he asked, as soon as he sat down.  
  
"Do you recall the time you informed me of my future, should I stay and marry Aragorn?" Arwen pressed, answering her father's question with a question of her own.  
  
Elrond recalled the time quite clearly, as all elves did when it came to their memories. Everything from what the weather was like to how they were dressed came back to him clear as day. Why she was bringing this up now was strange unless...  
  
"I do recall that day, Arwen. I saw only death and, as you well recall, your son," Elrond began, preparing to ask what he deemed the correct question.  
  
He was cut off, though, by Arwen who broached, "Was there nothing else you saw in that vision?"  
  
The elven lord relaxed, mind drifting further and further back. It came upon the vision again, everything much the same as it was the last time. He was about to inform Arwen of that fact when a small something caught his attention. In his haste to deal with his daughter, this small something had been overlooked. Now, though, he had time to give it his full attention.  
  
"There is another child. An older child," he said almost to himself.  
  
As if he heard his own words, he stated, "What is this about an older child?"  
  
For a moment, Arwen hesitated. She had suddenly become very unwilling to even look her father in the eye. The second child, the one her father had just discovered, was the reason behind his visit and the reason why Niphredil had spent a good part of her afternoon squirreled away with Emma for company.  
  
"I have a daughter, _Ada,_ an older one who has recently come back into my life. Her arrival is the reason behind your being called here," Arwen, slowly, admitted.  
  
She knew that, no matter how tough this was going to be, she was going to have to admit the truth to her father. He was one of the reasons behind her hiding her daughter in the first place. For closure's sake, he was going to have to be told about her and she about him.  
  
It was Elrond's turn to hesitate. This was not what he was expecting to hear...not in the least. What could he say or do when faced with something like this? His emotions ranged across the board from outright anger to a feeling of shame.  
  
"Who is her sire?" he questioned, fighting to keep most of his more negative emotions out of his voice.  
  
"Aragorn, of course!" Arwen exclaimed, sounding extremely hurt by her father's question.  
  
For a handful of long moments, an uncomfortable silence grew between the pair. Each was wrestling with feelings long held in check that were mingling with new feelings. Out of all the people Arwen had to face, she knew her father was going to be the toughest of the lot. Even harder than admitting her actions to Aragorn for she could not predict her father's actions.  
  
"Why did you not tell me about this child of yours sooner?" Elrond questioned, breaking the silence between the pair.  
  
"I was afraid, _Ada._ Afraid of what you would do to her and to Aragorn," she admitted.  
  
Elrond looked to his daughter with an incredulous expression. Her fears were not unfounded nor were they unexpected. If he was in her place, and was female like her, he might have the same fears and concerned.  
  
"I would have done nothing to the child, Arwen. She did not ask to be brought into this situation. She had no choice in the matter," Elrond informed his daughter in a matter of fact voice, "I would have done what I could to help you with her."  
  
"That I am glad to hear," Arwen retorted, sounding relieved, "but what would you have done to Aragorn or to me?"  
  
"Forbidding you to ever see Aragorn or marrying him would be enough punishment for both of you," Elrond answered.  
  
"Then you understand why I hid her from you," Arwen, simply, stated.  
  
Another long silence fell between the pair. This conversation was trying both of them in many ways. What to say and how to react to each question and response was something both of them had to consider before speaking.  
  
"You do know I am not angered with you on a whole," Elrond informed Arwen, his voice lacking its usual tone.  
  
She looked at him, carefully, suspiciously, as if she was expecting him to announce that statement as nothing but a joke. She could not believe her ears.  
  
"I am angry with you. Angry that you hid something this important from me for so long and that you could not ask for air when you, most obviously, needed it. Do not thing, for a moment that I am only angry with you. I am hurt and I am disappointed as well. You knew, as well as Aragorn, what you were and were not supposed to do," he continued.  
  
Elrond's words did nothing to comfort Arwen. True, they were expected but she had figured they were not going to be so harsh. She was starting to rethink her asking him to come here to meet her daughter. Tears sprung to her eyes and she began to blink them back.  
  
"But what is done is done and there is no going back to change it. I understand what you did and why you did it and I am just going to have to learn to live with it for I can not be angry with you forever," he ended.  
  
The change in tone confused Arwen for a few moments. He had just gone from angry to almost placid in a short span of time. Part of her, though, was glad for the change. She had been afraid he was going to hold a long standing grudge with her based on her actions.  
  
"Now, tell me of my granddaughter," Elrond broached, glancing at Arwen and giving her a genuine smile.  
  
Arwen explained everything she had learned about Niphredil over the short time they had been together both in the past and in the present time. Elrond laughed as he noted the almost proud tone his daughter had adopted when speaking about her own child. Like any good mother, she was proud of her own daughter though he assumed she was unaware of the change in her tone.  
  
"There is something very perplexing about Niphredil. Something that I believe only you can aid her in understanding," Arwen stated as she brought her story to a close.  
  
"I will do what I can," Elrond informed Arwen.  
  
"Niphredil was born half-elven. The choice between a mortal and an immortal life lies before her. As one of the lore masters of Middle Earth, and her grandfather, I was hoping you could explain that choice to her," Arwen requested of her father.  
  
The word "grandfather" rang in Elrond's ears for a moment. It was a strange word, one he had not ever expected to hear from his daughter's children. He had planned on leaving Middle Earth, sailing west, at the end of the war but something compelled him to stay. What it was he could not say but, at the present moment, he was glad he did.  
  
Two voices were heard coming down the garden path. One was familiar to the elven lord while the other was quite new to him.  
  
"Come here," Arwen requested, gesturing for Elrond to follow her through the garden.  
  
Curiously, he followed Arwen mind working on overdrive to figure out just where they were going. Their destination, oddly enough, was a small grove of wild looking trees. Between the tangles in the branches, there was a space wide enough to watch the path.  
  
For a few moments, there was nothing on the path save for a few birds. Then, as the voices grew louder, Elrond spied two figures talking to one another. It seemed the smaller of the two had said something amusing, making the larger one laugh loudly.  
  
The large figure was easily recognizable to Elrond. Dressed in his kingly best, Aragorn made his way down the garden path.  
  
The smaller figure at his side was one the elven lord did not recognize. Her back was to Elrond, allowing him a view of ink colored hair hanging down the cloud gray clad back of the small figure. She wore boots on her feet though the boots were making no sound on the cobbled pathway and dark breeches on her legs.  
  
"That small figure walking with Aragorn is my Niphredil," Arwen whispered to her father.  
  
The young half-elven maiden turned her head quickly, almost catching site of the pair hiding along the path. Elrond caught a fleeting glance of two dark eyes and something sparking at the neck of the tunic. She shrugged and continued to walk with her father.  
  
The elder father and daughter pair returned to their seats as soon as the other pair was out of ear and eye shot.  
  
"Your daughter does display many of the markings of the elven race, Arwen," Elrond affirmed, "It would be my pleasure to explain what her half-elven nature entails to her."  
  
In a more serious tone, he added, "How is Aragorn taking to her and she to him?"  
  
"They are getting along very well, in actuality. I do believe he wishes nothing more than her to call him '_Ada_," though she does not know that word. 'Father' would suffice just as well for him," Arwen told her father, "Earlier today; she called me '_nana_,' something she had not done since we parted all those years ago."  
  
Elrond nodded, understanding. He recalled hearing all of his children calling him "_Ada_" for the first time. True it had sent a thrill though him but it also reminded him of the responsibility that word carried. It had not hit home until he had heard the word from their own mouths.  
  
"I am sure she will come around. If that display is any indication of the future," he stated.  
  
Arwen laughed, lightly.  
  
"I do hope you are right, _Ada_. I really do," she commented.  
  
"I have foreseen it," Elrond retorted, with a smile.  
  
(AN: Just an odd note about this chapter, I was typing it while watching the movie _The Matrix_. The guy who plays Elrond is in that movie, playing Agent Smith. Figured I'd point that out. I hope I did alright with Elrond. He's one tough character to write.) 


	23. Una Parola

AN: Happy Belated Fourth of July to all those who celebrate it! I hope everyone had a good weekend, either way. I saw "Spider-Man 2" last week...not exactly as good as the first. Though I rather like The X-Men better than "Spider-Man" but that's neither here nor there. Now that movie's off my list of summer movies, all that's left to see is "King Arthur" and "I, Robot." Even though, from the look of the commercials, "I, Robot" the movie isn't going to be anything like "I, Robot" the book. At least, Peter Jackson tried to stay (somewhat) faithful to the text! With that said, I'm so happy all of you are reviewing! You all rock like a box of socks!  
  
Midnight-Insomniac1532: Sorry about the cliffhangers. I'm just a little fond of them. I'll try to get some closure to for that cliffhanger very soon!  
  
KapOfDaPipers: Thanks very much! Here's my latest update! Hope you like it!  
  
PixiePea000: Let's leave elves and agents out of fishnets. (You know how annoying they are...SERIOUSLY!) They dynamic duo are separated, for now, but both are very busy at the moment. They'd like to know if you'd rather a dress wearing dude pay you a visit. Best get out before they unplug your head (Though I rather think Sparks wouldn't). By the by, GOLLUM and watch out for Agent Elrond Smith...he can multiply!  
  
LalaithoftheBruinen: I'm very glad you liked the chapter a lot! The twins will pop up sometime and find out about Niphredil. They all will, eventually. Of course, some may find out from Aragorn or Arwen. Others, from Niphredil, herself. I hope you like this chapter just as much as the last.  
  
LadyJadePerendhil: Updating now! I'm glad you liked how Elrond came out and I'm glad you liked his reaction. There is really nothing he can do about Niphredil but accept her. Well, he could behave like Emma's biological father but that wouldn't be nice.  
  
sunni07: I've been doing ballet the longest (17 years) but I also do two kinds of tap and jazz. I use to be an acrobat but I had to stop when my sister blew her knee out. That kind of made the class less fun so I stopped too. I'm happy you liked the chapter and the little bit of elvish thrown in there.  
  
Elainor: I'm glad you liked his reaction. I figured he wouldn't go either way with it. Just play the middle until he could get all the information.   
  
Disclaimer: I own nothing except for a handful of made up characters. Tolkien thought up the concept and, as such, it belongs to him. I'm just playing in his world. I'm broke and in college. All I own are Pointe Shoes.  
  
Night had, finally, fallen over the White City. The sky grew velvety dark and, like little lights, the stars winked on. Watching the stars wink on, with a rapt interest borne of someone who was use to watching things, was Niphredil. She sat on her bed in the room she had been given, dressed in what amounted to night clothing.  
  
At the moment, she was thinking about families. Her family, Emma's family, and the families of the people she had known back in the other world.  
  
She was still thinking about families when a familiar sound entered the room. Every evening, at the same time, someone knocked at her door. A certain someone Niphredil was starting to enjoy spending lots of time with. Even if they were just learning bits and pieces about each other.  
  
It was a start...wasn't it?  
  
Pulling open the door, the wood creaking on its hinges, Niphredil smiled.  
  
"Good evening, Aragorn," she announced with a warm smile.  
  
Aragorn returned the smile, entering his daughter's room and taking his usual seat. That seat being at the vanity table in her room. Niphredil, generally, preferred to sit on the bed or on the floor if the mood struck her.  
  
The bed was her choice of seating at the moment.  
  
"I'd like to hear more about this friend of yours," Aragorn broached, wanting to pick up the conversation the pair had been having that afternoon, "she sounds...most interesting."  
  
Niphredil gave a laugh, trying to recall the last story she had told her father.  
  
He had asked about her family and she had declined to answer; always stating that bringing them up would spoil the mood. His experience with politics, such as it was in Middle Earth, had given him the knowledge not to press her until she was ready.  
  
So, he had asked about what she liked to do and her friends. Those subjects she freely spoke about, telling him stories about earning merit badges as some kind of scout and learning how to use a sword from a teacher she called Doc. One of the constants in her stories was a friend she called Hope, an ironic name considering he had once been named "Hope."  
  
During their little walk through the gardens, Arwen's way to keep Niphredil away from the guests she was most obviously interested in, she had started telling him about her friend and her friend's family.  
  
A family that seemed most odd to the high king.  
  
"Well," Niphredil started, her voice sounding very far away, "There was this one time when I met Hope's Godfather. That was quite an experience. One I'm pretty sure I'll never forget."  
  
**_Flashback  
_**  
"Are you sure this is a good idea? I mean, I don't want to bother him if he's busy," Niphredil, dressed in Junior Girl Scout Green, broached.  
  
Next to her, dressed in the same green uniform, Hope gave a short laugh. She adjusted her vest- it was too big, hanging almost to her knee- and stared at her friend.  
  
"He's not going to mind in the least. As a matter of fact, he's going to be tickled pink by this. Just promise you're not going to freak out when you meet him," Hope retorted.  
  
The pair were on their way to Hope's home, the esteemed boarding school known as Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters, to interview someone for their "Science Sleuth" merit badge. Most other kids in the troop, her foster sister Jane among them, were interviewing science teachers at the local grade school.  
  
They could have done the same for Niphredil also attended the school but Hope insisted otherwise.  
  
At first, Niphredil though Hope was hinting at them interviewing her mother who was a science teacher at the school. She kept saying that the person they were going to interview wouldn't mind and that this was no trouble for them. She claimed a family connection would ensure an interview.  
  
Then, Hope dropped the bombshell. Instead of interviewing her mother, they were going to interview another teacher at the school. A teacher Niphredil had always been curious about because he was a rather well known scientist.  
  
They were going to interview Dr. Hank McCoy.  
  
"I promise I'm not going to freak out when I meet him. It's just that...how did you manage to get this interview together? Isn't he busy with research or teaching or something?" Niphredil babbled.  
  
For some odd reason, she was very nervous. More nervous than she should have been. She kept trying to tell herself that he was just another, normal person...even if he was an all together famous scientist. Of course, normal could be a very subjective word considering what Hope and her family were.  
  
"I told you, it's going to be alright. He'll be very cool about it," Hope assured her friend, finality in her voice.  
  
They walked up the long path leading to the front door of the school, talking about Scouts and activities the troop was planning for the coming month. The school seemed oddly quiet to Niphredil, who was use to the hustle and bustle of an average grade school. There seemed to be no one around, every opulent hallway empty, every nicely decorated corridor deserted.  
  
She followed silently, though, following Hope through the building. She took Niphredil through an endless series of twists and turns ending with a long elevator ride.  
  
As they stepped off the elevator, Niphredil's breath caught in her throat. Gone was the wood and carpet of the school. It had been replaced by something very, very different.  
  
The hallway was white, endlessly white, broken up with clean metal lines. There were no visible doors. Even the elevator shaft seemed to have hidden itself back in the wall.  
  
"Where in the world are we?" Niphredil breathed her voice low.  
  
"Still in the school," Hope answered, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, "We're in one of the subbasements. Follow me."  
  
"I guess she's in her element," Niphredil decided, with a small smile.  
  
Hope wasn't much of a talker in Girl Scouts. She, generally, kept to herself in order to avoid an "unfriendly" confrontation with the other girls. Though, she didn't need to talk in order for that to happen. All she had to do was show up. Here, however, she was comfortable.  
  
"This is her home, after all," Niphredil mused, "Be weird if she was uncomfortable here."  
  
Hope walked along the halls, casting eyes here and there. She seemed to be looking for something among the blank walls. Every so often, she stopped and appeared to concentrate on something.  
  
"Come on," Hope called, "he's in here."  
  
"In where, Hope? There's no door," Niphredil commented.  
  
"In there," Hope retorted, pointing to the space that seemed to open up next to her.  
  
The small mutant lead the way, taking Niphredil through the spot that opened up next to her. It seemed that hidden behind the blank walls was a well equipped lab of some kind. Everything in the room seemed to be begging Niphredil to investigate it. It took a huge mental effort to prevent herself from doing just that.  
  
Sitting at one of the tables, wearing a white lab coat and hood of some kind, was a lone figure. He was hunched over, doing something with thick gloved hands.  
  
For a handful of minutes, no one moved or spoke lest they disturb the working figure. Neither of them wanted to be the cause of a horrible lab accident.  
  
Hope seemed to know the exact moment the experiment had finished for, as soon as the figure lifted his head up, she bounded over to the table. Niphredil tried her best to follow suit but she found that, despite the fact she had always been swifter then most, she could not keep up.  
  
"Dr. McCoy," Hope stated, stopping in front of the table, "I brought a friend over to talk to you. Remember I told you about it before?"  
  
"Of course I remember. How could I forget? You must have mentioned it a few hundred times," a good natured voice joked.  
  
Hope waved Niphredil over, looking far more excited than she had ever seen her before. There was something about this meeting that Hope found exceedingly happy.  
  
Niphredil came around the lab bench and nearly fainted when figure pulled his hood off. It wasn't a human face that was staring at her. No, no, no...nothing like it. She could barley find words to describe the blue furred visage before her. He looked like an animal something out a fairy tale like Beauty and the  
  
"Beast, Niphredil. Niphredil, this is Dr. Hank McCoy better know around here as Beast," Hope stated, obviously proud of the introduction she was making.  
  
"I do believe, my young Girl Scout, that I have stunned your friend into silence," Beast joked, smiling slightly.  
  
"Give her a second. She'll be alright," Hope assured Beast.  
  
"You're...you're..." Niphredil stammered, "a mutant."  
  
Beast pretended to be stunned at her pronouncement, glancing as his furred and taloned hands, running them over his furry face.  
  
"It seems I am, my pointy eared friend. You look like something out of Tolkien's 'Lord of the Rings.' Now, I hear that you two fine Girl Scouts are here to interview me about being a scientist," Beast said, almost casually.  
  
It took Niphredil a few questions and responses but she found the look of the blue-furred man to be nothing more than an odd looking human. Like Hope, a mutant without the physical changes, he was nothing but a human with differences. Differences unlike the ones he pointed out on herself.  
  
**_End Flashback  
_**  
Aragorn looked as stunned as Niphredil figured she looked when she had first met the blue furred scientist.  
  
"He was covered in blue fur? That is incredible," he stammered, "Did he ever try to harm you or your friend?"  
  
Niphredil shook her head, hair whipping around her face.  
  
"He did nothing of the sort. He was one of the nicest people you could ever want to meet Unless you got him mad. When he was mad, Hope told me, he was downright frightening," Niphredil responded.  
  
"Now, since I have asked you a question," Aragorn brought up, "you can ask me the question that I know you have wanted to ask me since I came in here."  
  
"I watched that group come into the city today. Who were they?" she asked, quickly.  
  
Aragorn gave a knowing laugh. He had suspected that was the question plaguing his daughter since earlier in the day. It was just too tempting a subject for the young half-elven maiden not to ask about.  
  
"I knew, full well, you would ask me about them. They came from Rivendell to visit," Aragorn, vaguely, answered.  
  
"Visit who? Where's Rivendell? Are they dangerous? Is that why you kept Emma and I locked away?" Niphredil asked, in rapid fire succession.  
  
"Rivendell is an elven strong hold quite a distance from here. They are the reason I kept both you and Emma out of harm's way but these visitors are by no means dangerous. They are here to visit your mother and I. Though, by now, they must have a keen interest in visiting you as well," Aragorn replied, in an even voice.  
  
"This is going to sound incredibly silly but why me?" Niphredil broached.  
  
"That, my inquisitive daughter is for you to discover another day," Aragorn stated, earning himself a reproachful stare from Niphredil.  
  
He was afraid her bad mood would force him to leave but it quickly faded. They bantered back and forth, talking about anything and everything.  
  
"Get to bed, Niphredil. Tomorrow is going to be a busy day for you," he told her.  
  
Niphredil looked crestfallen. They had been discussing battle skills and sword play, a subject she seemed inordinately keen on.  
  
"I promise we will finish this tomorrow,' he assured his daughter.  
  
With a resigned sigh, she crawled into bed and pulled the covers up around her chin. It had started to get cold, ushering in a change of season.  
  
Aragorn tucked her in, kissed her on the forehead, and whispered, "Sleep well, daughter" to her.  
  
He turned from the bed and made his way to the door, expecting the same response he got every night.  
  
In the darkness of her room, Niphredil smiled and replied, "Good night, father." 


	24. Pensieri

AN: Hi all! How is everyone doing? I hope everyone is having a good summer! Having lots of fun and stuff! I saw "King Arthur" the other day. It was pretty good....rather different from the King Arthur story everyone knows and loves. Merlin was about the only character that really upset me. I kind of always thought Merlin was the basis for three of the greatest wizard like characters of all time; Obi-Wan Kenobi, Albus Dumbledore, and, of course, Gandalf. The Merlin in the movie is nothing like those wizards! At one point I mistook him for a tree because he was all brown and green and grimy looking. Anywho, thanks for all your reviews. I mean, you guys are the best ever! You really are! I appreciate every review I get!  
  
et-spiritus-sancti: Thanks for your reviews! I'm very glad you like my little story and I appreciate your complements!  
  
sunni07: I do hope you're better after not sleeping. That sounds really, really, really rough. Yeah, I've been dancing ballet for 17 years. It's kind of an extreme hobby I have. I hope you got some sleep and you feel better!  
  
PixiePea000: I sincerely hope there are not fishnets under his robes. That would be...most uncomfortable. They could visit or their kids could visit but that would have to come later. Right about now, the dynamic duo are very much separated. Mutants will come into and out of this story like a certain elf pops up in theirs. Anywho, GOLLUM and watch out for Agent Elrond Smith (the Dynamic Duo are otherwise indisposed and can't go looking for him.)  
  
KapOfDaPipers: Updating right now! I hope you like this chapter!  
  
LadyJadePerendhil: She's a little older then Emma; by a year or so. He's just trying to act the part of the good father because he really has not a clue what to do. Mostly his half answers have to do with the fact that he wants her to be surprised by what is coming. A slight unexpected something for her. I just got my hands on the notebook I wrote Hope's story in. I'm going to try to get it posted as soon as possible.  
  
Disclaimer: I own nothing except for a handful of made up characters. Tolkien thought up the concept and, as such, it belongs to him. I'm just playing in his world. I'm broke and in college. All I own are Pointe Shoes.  
  
Aragorn walked to his room on cloud nine.  
  
At first he had thought his ears were deceiving him. She hadn't called him what he thought she had. It was just wishful thinking rearing its head at the most inopportune of times.  
  
Replaying the last few moments of his visit with his daughter had proven his hearing true. She had called him "father," much to his delight.  
  
There was nothing more he could ask from his recently returned daughter at the time. Well, there was one thing but he was not going to press the matter.  
  
Niphredil flat out refused to talk about the family she had once lived with. When that subject was broached, she would shut down or change the topic of conversation. She had no problems talking about her friend Hope- he head heard several stories about her and Niphredil's adventure- or her karate classes. Those stories came easy, flowing like an unobstructed stream.  
  
The family, however, was something she was not comfortable with speaking about. The single time he had pressed the subject, she informed him that their memories would tarnish what she had now and there was no way she was going to allow that to happen.  
  
That much could be allowed and could be expected, considering what he had heard during the period of time in which Legolas, Emma, and Gandalf had tracked her. They had said her life was not a very happy one.  
  
The more he did learn about his daughter, however, the more he came to realize just how different she was from what he had expected.  
  
For some odd reason, he had expected someone more like Emma. They had been raised in the same world, after all. Their experiences should have been quite similar in nature.  
  
Now, though, he decided that he was wrong....  
  
Niphredil was far different from Emma. Those differences were not a bad thing, when one considered everything she could have been. Niphredil was most definitely a warrior, on many levels. She had a taste for sword play and for hand to hand combat. From how she spoke about her training, it was to be expected from the type of teacher she had. It was in his mind to make some time in order to test out those skills. Some juggling of his kingly duties would allow that to happen...eventually.  
  
She had also fought a different battle, a battle not of physical skills. She had become a mental warrior battling against what was said about how she looked or acted or why she had been sent from her birth family. Apparently, that was where Hope fit in. Niphredil's mental battling, her defense of people who were different, had extended to that child as well. Her differences, according to his daughter, were part of something the people in the other world were not yet ready to understand.  
  
She was not a willing princess; he knew that to be true. The day to day running of the court interested her but she wanted no part of them. Crowns and gowns and royal trappings were far from her nature.  
  
Not that he was one to talk about wanting to be royalty. He had run from his rightful calling for many long years before becoming who and what he was now.  
  
He had learned to accept his birthright. Niphredil would have to do the same. He would, however, allow her the time in which to learn to do so. There was no need to rush into things. There would be a proper time to deal with princesses and crowns.  
  
"Crowns and princess," he mused with a laugh, "She will probably fight us on that, too."  
  
There was one thing he was most grateful she wasn't fighting about. More grateful then he could ever express.  
  
Despite everything she had been through and the half truths she had been, Niphredil was learning to accept him and Arwen as her parents. She was not fighting them, becoming hostile and unruly, as he expected she might. Instead, she allowed both him and his wife to say what they had to say before she passed whatever judgment she was going to on them. So far, he guessed, that judgment had been favorable. She had called him "father," after all.  
  
Meanwhile, Niphredil lay back in her darkened bedroom. She wasn't actually tired and she really didn't sleep all that much to begin with. She allowed Aragorn the simple act of tucking her in each night because she knew it made him happy.  
  
She knew he was trying his best to be a good father. Though she suspected he wasn't quite sure what to do half the time. Still, she couldn't fault him for trying.  
  
"Trying, now that's a funny word," Niphredil mused, sitting up a bit further in her bed, "Jay never tried."  
  
There were differences between the father she was biologically related to and the one she had grown up with. To compare them showed Niphredil two things: Jay's shortcomings as not only a father but as a member of the human race and just how lucky she actually was.  
  
Jay hadn't really tried to see Niphredil as his daughter. He made sure she knew from the start that she was just an addition his family. An addition he would have sooner cut away like some kind of twisted tumor.  
  
As soon as the twins came along, everything got worse. He never laid a hand on her. No, no, no that would have caused the neighbors to ask funny questions. It would have brought down the family's reputation and they could never have that happen.  
  
His harsh words, however, stung more than any blow could. They left not physical marks but mental ones. Mental scars that would have taken ages to heal if not for the memories that surfaced whenever Jay's words got to harsh. It was what had kept her sane, kept her from falling prey to despair, during her time in the Muggle world.  
  
Jay had been cold as a block of ice, immovable as a boulder, and about as kind as an old, angry crocodile. Only to her, of course. He was the perfect father to the twins.  
  
True, she hadn't known Aragorn as long as she had Jay. She figured that was what made the differences so glaring. To know someone for such a short period of time and to see such differences was probably a good thing.  
  
Aragorn was trying his best and for that she had to give him credit. Unlike Jay, he seemed genuinely interested in her and her life. Everything she told him prompted more question and those answers prompted even more questions. Her entire life was one large curiosity to him and he sought to rectify that.  
  
Jay had never spent time with her. Not even grudgingly. They'd never come to any of her karate competitions or had seen her move up in rank in her chosen sport. Girl Scouts, she was well aware, was something they came to only because of Jane. Her being there was just incidental.  
  
Her biological father was spending far more time than she'd ever thought possible with her. He was a king and she assumed they were rather busy. Running a kingdom, she figured, wasn't the easies of tasks. It seemed like he was trying to make up for the part of her life he had missed. All in all, she appreciated the effort.  
  
Unlike the incident with Arwen where she had called her "_nana_" for no apparent reason, calling Aragorn "father" had been very much intentional. She'd been scouring her memory for the elvish word for "father" and was coming up empty. Part of her had wanted to ask Emma but that would have made her seem foolish like she needed help. She knew, either way, her calling him that meant a lot to him. She wanted him to know that his efforts had not been in vain.  
  
Niphredil lay back down underneath her blankets. Something was going to happen the next day that involved her and she wanted to be rested enough for it. No sense in not putting her best foot forward. In the Muggle world, they had said that first impressions were the most important.  
  
With that thought in her mind, Niphredil slipped into a strange sort of sleep. Strange in that it was the light rest normal for most of elven kind combined with the normal sleep of the mortal race.  
  
Someplace on the other side of the citadel, Aragorn finally managed to make it to his quarters in one piece. His wandering feet and mind had led him home.  
  
No sooner had he stepped into his room than he announced, "I have news! Niphredil called me father!"  
  
Arwen looking up from her turning down of the bed and gave her husband an indulgent smile. She laughed brightly and sat down on the half undone bed.  
  
"I assumed she would do as much. She called me '_nana_' before we parted today," Arwen informed her husband.  
  
He changed into his nightclothes, considering both his wife and his daughter's words.  
  
"She is starting to warm up to us, don't you think?" he inquired, sitting next to his wife.  
  
"You can see it in her eyes. The part of her that remembers what is was like to live here is growing and gaining strength. She is starting to see us as her parents and I can see you are beginning to see her as your own," Arwen answered with a slight smile.  
  
"That is where you are wrong, my dear. I've loved her since I first set eyes on her, just like you," Aragorn corrected.  
  
Arwen blushed and stated, "Get in bed. You have much to do tomorrow and I can not promise it will all be pleasant. I am unsure what he is going to say after speaking with her."  
  
Aragorn gave a shudder, trying not to think about that meeting. It was something that could drive the need for sleep straight from him.  
  
It was enough he was going to have to deal with it the next day. 


	25. Prime Viste

AN: Hi all! Welcome to yet another installment of my little story! I hope everyone's having a good summer. It seems like every time I update I have another movie to talk about. This time is going to be no different. I took my mom to see "I, Robot" the other day because she likes Will Smith. The movie was nothing like the book as expected but it was better than I thought it would be. It was actually a pretty good movie. Though it would have been better if they stayed truer to the book but that's just me. Anywho, enough of my movie ranting. All of you and your reviews rock my socks! I am eternally grateful for them and I know they're going to come in handy next semester when I take Creative Writing. It's your reviews that gave me the confidence to take that class.  
  
et-spiritus-sancti: I'm glad you liked his reaction. I figured he should be excited since he wasn't all together sure about how Niphredil would react to him when she came back home. You are very right about the title of the story! It does translate into "The White Flower." The story it entitled that for two reasons. The first being that the"Niphredil," as described by Tolkien, is a white flower. The second being that Gondor had its famous white tree and Niphredil is part of the city with its white tree. I hope that cleared that up!  
  
LadyJadePerendhil: Yup! That conversation is in the very near future. I hope you like it. As for good old Elrond, I figure he didn't leave for whatever reason. It is weird trying to figure out how the movie and the book timelines work together or separate from one another. I'm glad you liked Niphredil's musings on her father!  
  
PixiePea000: Why? What is the reason? Have you been talking to the Merovingian again? Watch out for him! He's tricky! You'll see who she's meeting eventually and be nice to Sparky! Jay and Kay, along with Hope, will come up again. As for Hope's story, she and the merry mutants (not THOSE Merry Mutants...heaven forbid!) will get typed up soon. The Dynamic Duo are busy doing whatever those two do when not being rebels and tamping around in black. Anyway, GOLLUM and watch out for Agent Elrond Smith (the Dynamic Duo aren't looking for him at the moment.)  
  
sunni07: I'm glad you're better and you go some sleep! What's a Highland fest? Is it fun? I'm glad you liked both chapters and Emma and Niphredil will eventually either become friends or not! Time will tell!  
  
Elainor: I'm happy you liked the little look into both Aragorn and Niphredil's thoughts. I was hoping it would sound alright.  
  
LalaithoftheBruinen: LOL! Here's the next chapter fresh from my computer!  
  
KapOfDaPipers: I hope that silence is a good thing! I have the ending of this story mostly worked out because it kind of leads into the next story I have. Sort of another sequel/spin-off type deal.  
  
Disclaimer: I own nothing except for a handful of made up characters. Tolkien thought up the concept and, as such, it belongs to him. I'm just playing in his world. I'm broke and in college. All I own are Pointe Shoes.  
  
Sunlight filtered in through the window, casting small shadows on the walls and floor of Niphredil's room. It was the same sunlight that woke up the figure half-sleeping in her bed.  
  
Niphredil rolled over, blearily rubbing her eyes as she did so. She recalled falling asleep, or whatever passed for falling asleep in her mind, and that she was supposed to be doing something of great importance this day. That had been the reason why her father had left so early the night before.  
  
Full control of her senses and awareness of the world around her flooded into her quite quickly. With a mental laugh, Niphredil conjured up an image of Jane and James when they were "forced" to get up early for school....two angry, bleary eyed, tousled haired children with scowls on their faces a mile wide. It never failed to annoy them when Niphredil walked into the kitchen wide awake with a content look on her face. Of course, the look had been for their benefit. She knew it annoyed them in the strongest way. They couldn't understand just how she managed to be happy every single morning, even if they had a long day of school ahead of them.  
  
There had been another accession where Niphredil had the opportunity to wake up and find others not pleased to see her happy. That was at her Girl Scout Troop's yearly "Camp-In."  
  
"What an adventure that was," she mumbled, laughing.  
  
**_FLASHBACK_**  
  
It might have been about six in the morning. Maybe a little earlier, maybe a little later. Niphredil wasn't entirely sure. All that she was aware of was a certain stiffness in her back and an incredible need to yell at each and every member of the troop.  
  
She hadn't gotten much sleep the night before but that was partly her own fault. She'd stayed up late talking science and other unrelated things with Hope. When she wanted to go to sleep, though, she found sleep wouldn't come. There had been too much talking and laughing and video game playing on the part of the other members of the troop.  
  
Such was the nature of Girl Scout Troop 6417's "Camp-In."  
  
Without any leaders licensed to take the Scouts camping in the woods, the troop had been relegated to camping indoors. The whole event was fun for all of five minutes and did not resemble camping in any way, shape, or form. Instead, it looked more like a giant sleepover replete with the giggling and make-overs.  
  
Someplace a few inches away, squashed as they were in a smallish room, a small figure wormed around in her grayish sleeping bag. Where most girls had sleeping bags with cartoon characters or things of that nature on them, only she, Jane, and the small figure next to her had proper camping sleeping bags. Niphredil's was a dark green color; Jane's a ruby red, and the third member of the "elite" group's grayish in color with a darker gray "x" emblazoned on it's front.  
  
A mousy brown hair covered head peeked out from the top of the sleeping bag, peering around with tired eyes.  
  
"Morning yet?" she asked, in a bemused sort of voice.  
  
"Yeah, thankfully. Soon we'll be home in our own rooms and out of this creative form of torture," Niphredil answered, sitting up in her sleeping bag.  
  
"Good. I know I live in a school but it was never that noisy there and I've slept on the student's floor a fair few times," the other figure, Hope, answered sitting up in her own sleeping bag.  
  
All around the pair, the other members of the troop awoke with audible groans. Some had just fallen asleep a scant few hours ago.  
  
"That's because they know they'd get in trouble if they didn't go to sleep. Not like this lot," Niphredil commented, dryly.  
  
"Well, that too but they still don't get to bed at curfew. They talk but never that loudly," Hope retorted.  
  
Even the troop's leader, Miss Sandy, looked like she'd been dragged through the mud. There were visible bags underneath her eyes and a scowl on her face. She was, obviously, not a morning person.  
  
Breakfast was brought in at seven in the morning, on the dot. The food being supplied by a local deli that was based near the school.  
  
Like zombies, the troop made their way over to their breakfast. With a rather wicked looking smile on her face, Niphredil too walked over with Hope following behind. Not as much a morning person as her friend, the mutant Girl Scout was no zombie either. Living in a school had taught her to deal with mornings.  
  
"Wonderful morning, isn't it?" Niphredil cheerfully commented as she pulled out both her breakfast and Hope's, "I love mornings, don't you?"  
  
Except for a giggle from behind her, Niphredil earned herself a fair share of angry glares and half mumbled comments from the other members of her troop. Apparently the morning person was not welcome within their little circle.  
  
With a shrug, Niphredil walked off content with her actions and truly glad it was morning.  
  
**_END FLASHBACK  
_**  
"Thank goodness I never have to do that again," she mumbled.  
  
She swung her legs over the edge of her bed, still laughing at the memory of the unhappy Girl Scout Troop in her head, and spotted something hanging on the door leading into her room. A slight frown creased her face as she saw what this something was.  
  
Hanging from the back of the door was a dress made from a deep forest green fabric. Its short sleeves were trimmed in a shimmery gold thread as was the collar and area just above where her hips would be. Other than that, the dress was bare from any design. Sitting at the vanity table was a band of gold she assumed was for her hair.  
  
She wrinkled her nose, looking unhappily at her dress. True, it wasn't one of those huge puffy ball gowns the storybook princesses wore but it was still something she wouldn't have actively chosen to wear on her own.  
  
Hanging from the gold decorated collar of the dress was a folded piece of parchment. She pulled the parchment piece off, assuming it was a note of some kind. Perhaps something to explain just why this dress was left hanging off her door.  
  
She smoothed out the crease in the note- for a note it was- and read it to herself.  
  
"My dear, please forgive us for leaving you something to wear but it is imperative that you make a good impression on a certain person today. Wear this dress and make your way down to the courtyard just beyond the throne room. It is the one where you often have lunch with your mother. There you will find a person who is most interested in talking with you. We will see you at lunch today---your mother and father."  
  
Niphredil looked up and the dress then down to the note and back again. Something was most definitely going on and she was missing a certain piece of information to tie everything together. Namely the identity of the person who wanted so urgently to speak with her.  
  
"The person who came in with that group yesterday," she decided, removing the dress from the door and heading off to get dressed.  
  
The cloak and dagger secrecy her parents were employing was bothering her slightly. She didn't understand the need for secrecy in this case. What was going to take place that required her to remain so ignorant?  
  
She shook the thought from her head. Her parents had to have their reasons for acting as they did. Perhaps they just wanted her adequately surprised when she met this person. They wanted her first, true reaction to whatever this person wanted to speak with her about.  
  
"Maybe he's that lore master person _nana_ was talking about yesterday," she mused, as she dressed, "he could be someone of importance."  
  
That idea made some sense to her except for the secrecy thing. A storyteller, no matter how gifted, would not be cause for such actions.  
  
Dress on and hair brushed pin straight- although it was always pin straight- with the golden band sitting in it, Niphredil left her room.  
  
She knew the courtyard the note was referring to, having eaten there a number of times, but she'd never walked their on her own. Usually, she followed her mother's lead.  
  
"I can do this. I just need to think a bit," Niphredil decided, wandering through one corridor leading away from her room.  
  
Down one corridor, around a corner, through another long corridor, taking a side exit through a small room, Niphredil wandered trying to find her way to the appropriate courtyard. Though she could recall how to get there- The path was laid out in her mind - she seemed to be having problems getting that path to transfer down to her feet.  
  
All around her the usual people to be found within the citadel worked, going about their daily routines. Out of place in the crowd, though, were two tall figures alike in both dress and appearance. They were standing, talking in melodic tones, with two figures Niphredil recognized as being wandering guards that appeared to be based out of the citadel.  
  
Usually, the two white haired guards wore armor bearing an odd orange, black, and blue symbol. Now, though, they wore light gray clothing with quivers at their backs and bows in their hands.  
  
The twin figures, dark of hair and eye and reminding Niphredil slightly of her mother, were speaking to one of the guards. The other, slightly smaller of the pair of white haired females, kept speaking out of turn.  
  
Niphredil shook her head, deciding they were probably not the best people to ask where she was going. If her memory served her correctly, the younger of the white haired guards, Fire being her name, would tease her mercilessly for asking such a question. The elder of the pair, Ice, would give directions with a wiry shake of the head.  
  
Getting turned around three or four more times after stepping away from Ice, Fire, and the twin figures, Niphredil arrived at her destination.  
  
Three figures sat in the courtyard. Two were recognizable, despite their odd mode of dress, as Legolas and his sister Emma. The other, however, was a total unknown. From her distance, he looked to be either very young or very old and had the weight of many years on his shoulders. His hair was dark and his ears, slightly covered by his hair, were pointed like her own. He was dressed in regal colored robes, deep purples and reds, which gave him the air of royalty.  
  
"I see our guest of honor has arrived," the man quipped, catching sight of Niphredil as she replaced.  
  
"We shall take out leave, Lord Elrond," Legolas commented, bowing slightly.  
  
"It was very nice to meet you, sir. My brother speaks very highly of you. My real father, however, does not," Emma added, stepping into a dancer's curtsey.  
  
"I can assure you that your real father, as you call him, is lying on most accounts. It was very nice to meet you as well, princess. See that your brother treats you well," Elrond stated, lifting a hand.  
  
Both figures stood up from their bowed positions and took their leave.  
  
As they passed, Legolas leaned towards Niphredil and whispered, "May your fortunes be good."  
  
Niphredil wasn't sure if that was meant in jest or in truth, making her all the more nervous.  
  
"There's nothing for it. We have to do this," Niphredil decided, taking a few tentative steps towards the lone figure not standing in the courtyard.  
  
She'd stood up to Jay and to the antagonists in her Girl Scout troop. She just had to draw on that strength now....and ignore the tense feelings of nervousness that was threatening to overtake her. 


	26. Dare I Nomi

AN: Welcome to another week and another update! First off I'd like to give a big congrats to Lance Armstrong for winning his sixth consecutive Tour de France. My sister's a big cycling fan (she's basically obsessed with Lance Armstrong) and she had me watching the race with her. I may not be obsessed with cycling like her but, watching someone ride a bicycle in the mountains, you definitely have to respect the guy. Anywho, I'm digressing. Thanks for all your reviews. As always, I really and truly appreciate them. Keep them coming!  
  
et-spiritus-sancti: Sorry about the cliffhanger. I'm quite fond of them and I have a nasty habit of always writing them. I'm the Daisy Girl Scout leader for my local troop. We've never gone camping, though, but use to have "camp-ins." They were among the worst things we had in the troop....getting to bed at some inhuman hour and then waking up way to early. I got the added benefit of having to get to ballet at 8AM after the "camp- in." I'm glad you liked the title!  
  
Midnight-Insomniac1532: Yup! She's finally going to go one on one with Elrond. Here's the next part!  
  
elentir girl: Fun with cliffhangers, I guess. I'm sorry for them, though. I'm glad you liked the previous chapter and I hope you like this one just as much.  
  
sunni07: I'm a morning person myself, too. It's a great way to annoy the people I dance with at 8AM. Coming into the studio with a wide awake look apparently is very annoying. Wow! The Highland Festival sounds like a lot of fun! I'm sure you danced well! Your guess is very much right!  
  
KapOfDaPipers: The sequel follows this one but is partly based on things from my first story and things from this one. Kind of a cross-sequel thing in a way. Anywho, I'm glad the silence is a good thing and I hope you like this chapter too.  
  
Elainor: You shall soon see what he says and does. Very soon actually!  
  
LJP: LOL! I'm sure she'd have no qualms hitting him either way. You'll see how she reacts to Elrond and how Elrond reacts to her in turn rather soon!  
  
Disclaimer: I own nothing except for a handful of made up characters. Tolkien thought up the concept and, as such, it belongs to him. I'm just playing in his world. I'm broke and in college. All I own are Pointe Shoes.  
  
The few steps she took forward were cancelled out by the few stutter-steps she took back. As much as she wanted to confidently move toward this figure, an equal amount of her wanted to stay put. Not to move anywhere save back to her room.  
  
She knew there was no logical reason to be afraid of this figure- She hadn't a clue who he was to begin with. - but she was nonetheless. The confidence she was trying to draw on seemed to be failing as a well fails in a drought. There was just an empty, seemingly bottomless pit that had once been brimming with her usual confidence. Dip a preverbal bucket in, draw off the needed strength. Now, though, the same bucket was coming up empty. The well had gone dry just when she needed it.  
  
Elrond took a good long look at the figure standing just a few meters away from him. She looked, for all the world, like an elf. The way she stood and moved, the way she looked and the handful of mannerisms he had seen her display all spoke of elven blood moving in her veins. He knew, from Arwen, that at the same time, in the same instance, this child was human. She had the blood of the race of men in her as well.  
  
It had fallen on him to explain this and the subsequent choices she faced to her.  
  
All in due time, of course.  
  
They had to get past introductions first.  
  
Slowly she made her way over with small tentative steps. Steps, he noted, that made no sound against the cobbled ground.  
  
Seeing as the others had bowed when they departed, Niphredil assumed that was protocol for the given situation. Then again, she recalled seeing people within the confines of the citadel bow or curtsey in front of her parents. She, herself, hadn't had the chance to experience such a show of respect. More often than not, she was just watched with side-long glances.  
  
She gave the unknown figure a stiff karate bow. With her arms straight at her sides and her back ramrod straight, she bent at the waist.  
  
The show of respect seemed to catch the other figure off guard. His reaction was slightly slower than the one he had for Emma and Legolas. It was as if he hadn't been expecting a bow that looked like that or, maybe, a show of respect at all.  
  
"I know I'm new here but I know what's going on....mostly," Niphredil mused, as she stood up in response to a motion made by the other figure.  
  
True, the bow had caught Elrond off guard. He had half been expecting a curtsey not unlike the one given to him by the Mirkwood Princess, if she knew to give him one at all. It seemed, though, that she had an inkling of an idea of what to do in certain situations.  
  
"I am sorry if I kept you waiting, sir," Niphredil began, unsure of what to say and assuming a show of respect was probably best, "I am still relatively new here and I got a bit lost."  
  
The other figure stood and, much to Niphredil's surprise gave her a slight bow. She hadn't expected a show of respect in response to her own.  
  
"I understand. I was told to expect you a bit later than the given time. You are here now, though. Please have a seat," he commented, in kind.  
  
Niphredil hesitated, not entirely sure she wanted to sit. Especially with someone she didn't know.  
  
"If he was a threat, they wouldn't have told me to come down here and meet him. Alone especially," Niphredil mused.  
  
The few times she had gone wandering on her own throughout the city she had discovered something was tailing her. She came to later learn that it was not a something that was following her. More like a someone was following her. Several someones, as a matter of fact. That was how she came to meet Ice, Fire, and the rest of their merry band.  
  
It was they who told her that her parents had ordered their silent observation. Silent in that they were elven-kind and were naturally so. This natural silence, they had said, was augmented with training received as they became Rangers...whatever that word meant, for it held no meaning to Niphredil.  
  
"Plus it might seem rude if I don't sit," she, mentally, added as she swept her skirt underneath her with one hand and sat down on an intricately carved stone bench.  
  
She must have done something right, for the other figure gave her a slight smile. The smile didn't seem to fit the face for some strange reason. He didn't look like the type who smiled easily to begin with. Maybe he once had, for it seemed he had the weight of many years on his shoulders, but that time had passed. Now, it appeared, he wasn't much for smiling.  
  
Niphredil assumed that stemmed from some event that had happened in this mystery man's past. Whether this man's past had anything to with the past of her new home she couldn't say. She didn't know enough about its history to do so.  
  
Elrond, for his part, watched the half-elven maiden sit. He knew her name and some things about her- as much as her mother would let on about her anyway- whereas she knew nothing about him. It seemed unfair to him to keep her in such a state. Gaining knowledge was the purpose of their meeting and he was well aware of the importance of purpose. To lack a purpose would be tragic.  
  
"I trust you are doing well here in your new home," Elrond inquired, catching the half-elven female off guard.  
  
"That I am, sir. It is very different here as compared to where I use to live. Personally, I prefer it here than there," Niphredil answered mostly by rote.  
  
Suddenly it hit Niphredil. How would this person know about something like that? It was true that her parents could have told him. They had gone down to meet him, after all, but somehow that made her feel uncomfortable. The idea that someone knew things about her and she knew nothing about them put her ill at ease.  
  
A feeling like "big brother is watching" came over here. That too was a feeling she wasn't entirely comfortable with.  
  
"Pardon me if I seem rude, sir, but who are you? I take it you know my name since you know of my situation," Niphredil broached, as delicately as she possibly could.  
  
She had no intentions of offending this person, who ever he was, and risk doing something to the country her parents ruled. She just wanted to know the truth, to answer the questions that had been harboring for most of her life.  
  
That and she was just plain curious.  
  
No harm in being curious...unless you lived with the Joneses. Then being curious was distinctly frowned up. It made one different and could bring up unpleasant questions about said differences.  
  
The figure gave a small laugh, a chuckle really. Her question seemed to be quite expected.  
  
"I am well aware of your situation, Niphredil. Your mother told me of your rather unique situation. I assume, however, she did not tell you of me," he answered.  
  
"Unless you are the lore master she spoke of. She had told me that she was sending for one to help explain how one can be half elven. If you are that person, then, I was told you were coming. No names were given, though," Niphredil retorted in a quiet voice.  
  
All was silent for a handful of moments as the male gathered his thoughts. What he had to say was quite important, for both their sakes. It was a piece of knowledge she lacked and he was very willing to share.  
  
"I am the lore master your mother told you about and I was asked to explain how one can be half elven. I am afraid, though; there is something you must know before that can happen," he told her.  
  
"What's that?" she asked, curiously.  
  
'My name is Elrond, my child. I am your grandfather," he informed a suddenly very silent Niphredil. 


	27. Le Scelte

AN: Hi all! Another week, another update! I hope everyone's having a stellar summer and doing lots of fun things. I went to see "The Village" the other day. It was pretty good...not as good as "Signs," though. Then again, I'm partial to movies about aliens. Hence the reason why I'm typing this while watching a "Star Wars" movie (going though an extreme Star Wars thing...not sure why). Anywho, thank you all for our reviews! I greatly appreciate them. Please keep them coming as I'm going to need all the help I can get for my Creative Writing class next semester.  
  
et-spiritus-sancti: I'm glad you liked the metaphor! I hope you like this next chapter as much. Niphredil's trying her best and is truly in for a shock soon. Quite soon, actually. As for her decision, that's going to make a big impact.  
  
LalaithoftheBruinen: I'm glad you liked the chapter! I really am. Here's Niphredil's reaction, coming at you soon. I hope you like that just as much.  
  
sunni07: Being cheerful at either really late or really hours does indeed bother may people and it something I try to do as often as possible. Works well in the place where I dance. The title of the chapter does work into something like "To Give Names." I used it because Elrond is giving himself a name in the chapter as well as a title of sorts. I'm sorry about the ending...I truly am!  
  
LadyJadePerendhil: LOL! I'm glad you like Elrond's entrance. They're both going to be walking on eggshells with each other for a while. He's not sure what to make of her and she's sure as anything not sure what to make of him. I'm glad you liked it, though!  
  
Disclaimer: I own nothing except for a handful of made up characters. Tolkien thought up the concept and, as such, it belongs to him. I'm just playing in his world. I'm broke and in college. All I own are Pointe Shoes.  
  
Niphredil stared at the man- the one who had just proclaimed himself to be her grandfather- with unseeing eyes. There was just no way, no way at all he could be her grandfather. First off, and foremost, he looked too young. Grandfathers, in her opinion, were supposed to be these old men who were kindly and gave you treats.  
  
From what she had learned from her parents, her grandfather wasn't exactly the kindest of figures. After all, he had forbidden her parents from seeing each other. In a round about way, he was responsible for her exile to the Muggle world. Her mother had feared his reaction to her when she was just a baby and had squirreled her away for safe keeping.  
  
At least that's what she assumed her mother's words meant. She knew she could have been taking them the wrong way completely.  
  
"Grandfather?" she asked, incredulously, "You look far too young to be my grandfather."  
  
Part of her wanted to get away from this man, if indeed he was her grandfather, and head back into the citadel where she figured it was safer. Even now, after however much time had passed, she didn't want to test how he was going to react to her.  
  
The other part of her wanted to stay, to learn everything she could from this man...elf...whatever he was. He was, after all, the lore master her mother had told her was coming. That meant he knew things. Things that could prove useful to her, help her understand the world she was living in. Things that could explain just who and what she was. She had so many questions and he looked to be the source for answers.  
  
She had come here looking for answers, hadn't she?  
  
Elrond looked at Niphredil, slight smile on his face. The shock was expected but her fear, the fear dancing just behind her eyes, was not. Why she was afraid of him, Elrond could only guess. He knew, though, Arwen might have something to do with it. His daughter had been afraid to tell him of Niphredil in the first place. That information may have come down to his granddaughter in some way, shape, or form.  
  
"I may look young, my child, but I am far older than even you can imagine. To me you are still very new to the world and not in the way you are thinking," Elrond said with a wiry half grin.  
  
"But how?" Niphredil broached, "That's not possible. I mean, unless you're a wizard or something and you're using magic of some kind."  
  
She hadn't meant to question his words, to make a fool out of herself, but she found she couldn't help herself. There were just too many strange things going on for her liking.  
  
"I forget, you do not know what you truly are," he began but found himself being cut off.  
  
That, in and of itself, came as a surprise to Elrond. She appeared to be a somewhat meek person, afraid of her own shadow. It could have been an act, however, albeit a very clever one. Perhaps one she was not aware she was using.  
  
"Emma said I was an elf," Niphredil stated in a matter of fact voice.  
  
Elrond shook his head ruefully. There was no way to blame Emma for her actions. According to what he had learned, Aragorn had made Emma promise to befriend Niphredil. The young elfling most likely assumed that being friends did not entail keeping any secrets from the other.  
  
"She is correct, in a way but I am sure she was not able to explain exactly how you are an elf. Your mother could have explained this to you. Instead, she had deferred that honor to me," Elrond corrected.  
  
Niphredil simply nodded. Learning usually entailed silence in order for ears to pick up on every small detail of her lesson. Details were always the things teachers asked about on tests. She wasn't aware of a test coming from this elf, from her grandfather, but one could never be sure.  
  
"I am half-elven, as is my daughter and twin sons. This designation is not just a title, as I believe you once assumed it to be and it is not something to be taken lightly. To be half-elven carries a burden with it. A burden it has fallen on me to help you understand. To be half-elven, requires you to make a choice. You can chose to be immortal and share the fate of the Eldar, or you can chose to be mortal, like you parents, and die when your time comes," Elrond explained, in a storyteller's voice.  
  
"But, of both my parents are mortal," Niphredil broached, trying to put the puzzle together in her head, "how am I an elf? Shouldn't I be mortal like them?"  
  
"That is a question with a simple answer. That is, simple to say. It is far more difficult to explain and I venture to believe that I may not know exactly how it happened. You were born to my daughter before she chose a mortal life. She was still counting among the Eldar, as was the child she was carrying," he answered knowing he was forcing more questions instead of providing more answers.  
  
For the second time in quite a short span of time, Niphredil was struck speechless. What did one say to something like that? Immortality was just the stuff of fairy stories.  
  
"As are elves and apparently I'm an elf," she mused.  
  
Being an elf, she could nearly wrap her mind around. There were other elves in this world to help lessen the strangeness. The fact she was immortal, however, she was having difficulty wrapping her mind around. It just seemed so far fetched, so something people in the other world could only wish for, and here she was being offered it on a silver platter. It was hers for the taking.  
  
"You are only immortal if you chose to be. That is why I am here, to tell you about this choice. To help you understand what is it you are being asked to decide," Elrond said his voice far more gently than she expected it to be.  
  
"What am I being asked, sir? I'm not quite sure I understand it," Niphredil brought up truthfully.  
  
"You must decide your own fate, little one. Chose to be immortal and I will hold of my sailing to the West until you are prepared to leave these shores. Chose a moral life and you will pass when your time comes. Though that time will be longer than that over an average mortal," he explained, trying his best to put it in words Niphredil could understand.  
  
Niphredil gave her grandfather another wide eyed stared. That was some choice he was laying before her.  
  
For some reason, one not easily discernable to her at the time, she recalled a story she had been asked to read in school called "The Lady or the Tiger." In that story, a man was asked to choose between two doors- behind on love, behind the other death. Unlike the man in story, Niphredil could clearly see her choice.  
  
The words "Take the blue pill, take the red pill," echoed in her mind along side the story. Every other choice she had made in her short lifetime paled in comparison to this one. This was not something she could decide off the cuff, it seemed as irrevocable as the "red or blue pill" choice Sid and the others talked so often about.  
  
"How long...how long do I have to decide?" Niphredil asked, finally finding her voice.  
  
If she had time, she felt she could make the proper decision. The one she felt comfortable with. The one that would suit her and make her happy.  
  
"Not ling, little one, for your great grandmother wishes to leave. I am hold her and you are holding me. Much depends on the haste of your decision," Elrond said, sounding slightly sad.  
  
"Where is it you are going and why am I holding you here?" Niphredil questioned, trying to cover all the bases before doing anything else.  
  
She knew it was best to see all her options before making any choice. That way she could make the best decision possible. It was unwieldy and methodical; she knew that to be true, but it was her way of doing things...most of the time.  
  
"Like most of our kind, I grow weary of this world. I wish to sail to the West to the Undying Lands. If you decided to be counted among our kind, though, I will put off my sailing until you are prepared to go. It is the least I can do for both you and your mother," Elrond replied.  
  
Niphredil was unhappy with the fact she was not being given a longer period of time in which to decide her fate. Such a large decision in such a short period of time hardly seemed fair to her.  
  
"This is a very big decision you are asking me to make, sir. I can't just decide here and now how long I'm going to live. Please, sir, if it is at all possible, can I have just a few days to think it over? I promise not to take forever," Niphredil requested, suddenly feeling quite overwhelmed. By everything she was being asked.  
  
"Of course. I would not want you to make this decision only to regret it later. Everything has its purpose, Niphredil, including this decision. I can only grant you a handful of days, though," Elrond stated, watching Niphredil with careful eyes.  
  
She seemed to understand what was being asked of her- a good thing to say the least- but was faltering under its weight. It was a heavy burden, he knew from experience. He just hoped she was equal to its weight and she would follow her heart. She would make the choice that was right to her and only her. The choice that was free from outside influence, including his own influence.  
  
(AN: The "take the blue pill, take the red pill" is a reference to the choice presented in The Matrix Trilogy. It's one of those irrevocable choices akin to the one being presented to Niphredil.) 


	28. Gli Sguardi Possono Ingannare

AN: Hi all! Sorry about being a day late. I couldn't up load this chapter for some odd reason and I hope it works well! My computer's being odd again...or something. It's been behaving oddly all week! Anywho, sadly summer's winding down and school's coming up soon. Before that, though, I'm going up to Boston to see the Lord of the Rings exhibit! I was able to talk my parents into taking me and my sister, though I believe my sister would rather stay home. She's so NOT a fan of anything Tolkien related and she's already whining about going. Anywho, I'd just like to make one request of you, my wonderful and most excellent reviewers. If you're going to call my character a Mary-Sue, can you please explain to me why or how. I'd be most appreciative if you do for I would like to change it, if possible. Plus, it'll do me some good when school rolls around. Please don't think me rude, though, and please, keep up the reviews. I really appreciate them!

et-spiritus-sancti: It is quite a decision, on par with lots of other famous movie decisions. She's got a lot to consider before she can decide, though. That includes her experiences in the Muggle world. Everything's sort of banking on this decision...which will be revealed later!

Tracey: I'm very sorry you didn't like this chapter. There's a reason for why Elrond is asking her to make this decision, despite her age. Said reason will be revealed shortly. I know it's something that doesn't make logical sense but it is feasible for someone, despite their age, to make such a decision. If one thinks about it with and objective, rather than a subjective, mind.

sunni07: You! You're right with the translation! They're always annoying. It seems like it's part of their personalities. Oh well, I just try to ignore them and dance. Though they do and say things that are very funny at times (like asking if ear aches can walk across your nose to get into the other ear or if a barracuda lived in the water) and are worth a good laugh. I'm sorry the people you dance with are annoying but it sure fun to make them crazy!

Elainor: I'm glad you liked the chapter. There's a reason why leaving with Legolas isn't exactly an option for Niphredil. One that will be revealed in a bit...

LadyJadePerendhil: What and how she decides will be revealed soon. It's going to take a very huge jolt to get her to make the decision and a blast from her past may show up to help the process out. As for leaving with Legolas and Gimli, there's a reason why she can't go with them....well, she's part of the reason. The other part has something to do with Elrond and Galadriel.

Disclaimer: I own nothing except for a handful of made up characters. Tolkien thought up the concept and, as such, it belongs to him. I'm just playing in his world. I'm broke and in college. All I own are Pointe Shoes.

Something furrowed through Niphredil's thoughts, sending up ridges through the causeways of her mind. Elrond had said something about most of his kind wanting to leave Middle Earth. He was an elf, an immortal by his own admission. She knew of other elves in this world, not many but she knew they were there.

"But all of you aren't leaving at once," she ventured, "I mean, Emma and Legolas- They're elves, aren't they?- don't seem like they are going to leave."

Elrond looked at Niphredil, trying his best to read deeper into her question, to see if there was something behind it. Something that wasn't plainly obvious to his eyes and ears. Other than strong confusion warring with curiosity, there was nothing else.

For a split second the elven lord was worried she was showing a preference for them over her. Perhaps an outcropping of her original conceptions was coming to the fore. It relieved him to see that fact wasn't the case.

"They are elves, indeed, from Mirkwood. They are young, though. Emma is just slightly younger than you, if I am not mistaken. They have yet to grow weary of this world as many my age have," Elrond answered slowly.

It was a strange concept, to say the least. That some grew tired of the world and opted to leave while others, of the same type and living in the same span of time, were choosing to stay. There was far more to the decision than Niphredil- with her limited time in Middle Earth- had seen. That would come later, when she started to learn the history of her new home.

Now, though, she just had to see the basics, the supports onto which the building had been built. Everything else would come later.

"How come?" she, simply, asked, her voice curious.

It was not an unexpected question, in Elrond's opinion. Logical, even, if one followed the usual train of thought. If someone didn't want to leave, in progression, the next question should be their reason behind not wanting to leave.

"I can not speak for them; give you their most personal reasons as to why they want to say. I can only speak for myself, Niphredil, and I can tell you I have lost much of my passion for living in this world," Elrond explained.

His slightly vague answer frustrated Niphredil for a few heartbeats. That wasn't much of an answer, something she assumed he was going to provide for her.

"Since, you're weary of this world and Legolas and Emma are not, why is it I can't go with them when they leave?" she countered, working with an idea that was forming in her head, "It isn't in my nature to be an issue or a bother to anyone."

That had been Elrond's initial plan, while traveling to the White City. He was to answer his daughter's summons and, then, head West with the others. This detour, the change in the plans he had set, was unexpected, though not unfortunate.

"I feel that it is partly my fault you were sent to live in that other world, with a family I have heard is most unlike your genuine one. In order to make up for that, I have decided to stay my sailing until you are ready. I would much prefer you to sail with family than without," the elven lord answered.

Niphredil furrowed her forehead, trying to make sense of Elrond's words. Perhaps he, too, was feeling badly about his actions and this was the only way he could make himself feel better. It was an all too human, too mortal, assumption for her liking but she was new to this world and things seemed to be different here.

After all, if elves and mortals could have children, they could act alike.

The mood had turned somber in the past few moments, taking a downturn that produced just a painfully heavy, uncomfortable silence. A silence that was threatening to smother the young half-elven maiden and the older elven lord sitting next to her.

Niphredil decided something was needed to lighten the mood. There was a question, a rather foolish and immature one given what she had just been asked to decided, that she had been dying to ask. One she had always wanted to know the answer to ever since she was a young child living in the Muggle World.

Taking a deep breath and letting it out, she broached, "Elrond, who do I look like?"

Though she was, physically, sitting in Middle Earth her mind and ventured back into the past where that question had sparked up an interesting debate.

_**FLASHBACK**_

Around a wide lunch table sat a group of Brownie Girl Scouts. In their famous Brownie brown jumpers with an assortment of sashes or vests- depending on what each girl's parents had bought them- they worked on their "Listening to the Past" Try-It.

Niphredil was what the troop creatively called a 'Senior Brownie." That is, a third grader getting ready to bridge to Junior Scouts the following year. At her elbow was her "Brownie Bite."

Each older Brownie in the troop was assigned a younger counterpart to help out in their first few months as a Brownie. They were first graders, recently bridged from Daisy Girl Scouts.

Of course, Niphredil's "Brownie Bite" was not her foster sister Jane. Instead, her spot was filled by Hope.

"My mommy said, I look like her," Jane bragged, "which, of course means I'm just the prettiest girl ever. That's what everyone says."

"You're mommy's a liar. I'm the prettiest looking girl here," countered a second grader by the name of Cheyenne, "She's going to make me be a model."

She flipped her hair over her shoulder and batted her eyes so everyone could see just what her mother was talking about.

A few assorted groans and giggles moved through the table as everyone appraised her looks and compared them to their own.

Niphredil, sitting at the far end of the table with her "Brownie Bite," just heaved an enormous sigh. This hadn't been what Miss Aicha had in mind, not at all. They were supposed to be talking about stories their parents had told them from when they- that is, the parents- were younger. It had somehow degenerated into a conversation about who looked like whom and who was prettier.

"How are you holding up?" she asked Hope, watching the troop leader snag a young Brownie named Julissia who had been busily making a "Brownie Bite" named Jocelyn cry.

So far, the conversation had managed to miss the two of them entirely. Whether that was by chance, skill, or choice Niphredil couldn't say. She was just thankful to stay out of the whole mess.

"I'm alright," Hope said, around a hard cough, "This is just kind of funny to watch."

Niphredil had to admit the younger Brownie was right. Watching the others argue was a good time, indeed.

"How about you two? You've awfully quiet down there," commented a rather annoying precocious girl named Amy.

"That's true," Jane concurred, rounding on her foster sister and least favorite Girl Scout, "We all know Freddy's got no real parents because she's such a freak and they didn't want her anymore so she doesn't count. What about you, Hope? Who do you look like?"

"A mouse, right?" joked girl named Olivia, whose mother was the leader for the Cadettes and Seniors.

"Or like something just as weird," added another girl they called Kayla F., only because there was another Kayla in another troop.

Hope, for her part, didn't look amused by their joking. The only thing mousy about her was her hair, which was a mousy brown in color. Sure she didn't look like a pillar of heath being shorter and thinner than the other Brownies. That coupled with the fact she was almost always sick gave her a strange physical appearance.

"My dad use to joke that I looked like the milkman until I told him there was no milkman. I guess I look like both my parents since we all have hazel eyes. My hair seems to be closer to my dad's shade than my mom's since he has lighter hair than she does," Hope answered, trying not to cough as she spoke.

Her deceptive appearance served to also hide the fact Hope appeared to be smarter than the other Brownies but that was just Niphredil's opinion. She made a mental note to ask Hope's mother about that fact someday.

Feeling bold because her friend's little speech, Niphredil stated, "And how come I can't answer the question too? Maybe I remember something about my parents."

Laughter, cold and cruel, broke out around the table. Everyone was doubling over, breaking into hysterics.

"Just the idea of a bunch of freaks like you is funny," wheezed Amy.

"Because, Freddy," Jane stammered, trying to work through her fit of giggles, "there's no one out there that looks like you. You're just a freaky mistake."

Unable to really say anything, Niphredil contented herself with looking up the next part of the badge, hopefully something to be done alone.

_**END FLASHBACK**_

The elven lord appeared to be confused by the question, making Niphredil inwardly laugh. Apparently that question only existed in the Muggle World or maybe among the mortals in this world. It seemed to be new to the elf lord's ears.

Biting her lip as she tried to find the words, Niphredil explained, "Where I use to live, the children use to ask family members that question. They just want to know if they look like their parents or grandparents, or third aunt twice removed on their father's side."

That seemed to register something to the elven lord for his expression changed. He began to study Niphredil as if she was a diagram in a science book. She tried to sit perfectly still as his eyes roved over her face and, oddly enough, her ears. They seemed to linger there for far longer than Niphredil would have expected.

"You look like our kind, that is to say a child of the Eldar. If that is the case, you most resemble my daughter's kin. As for your spirit, though, that is wholly of your father's side. I can see it in your eyes and Gandalf has told me you are quite the warrior already though you do not fight like we do," Elrond, finally, replied.

A baffled expression crossed Niphredil's face. She wasn't quite sure what to make of her grandfather's words, especially the parts relating to her father.

"What do you mean?" she asked, her voice mirroring her confusion.

"I have known your father for a very long time," Elrond answered, taking a guess at what had baffled the young half elven maiden, "Like him you do not want anything to do with this royal life. Rather, you might prefer something with a little less attention attached to it. A warrior in an army, perhaps? You will learn as he did that this cannot be set aside so easily and that both lives can be reconciled somehow."

Niphredil was still slightly confused, the words ringing true to her but, at the same time, giving her something new to think about.

It was true- a certain fact- that she was not all that keen on a life of large gowns and princely rescues. She had been trained to take care of herself, after all. She didn't really need a prince to rescue her, in her own mind anyway. How she was going to reconcile that with the fact she was a princess, she had no idea.

It could be done though, if her grandfather's words were to be believed.

"Guess it's up to me to figure out how," she mused, ruefully.


	29. Sensibilità

AN: Another Monday! Another update! I'm sorry I didn't get the last update on-line on Monday. For whatever reason, I just couldn't get it to upload. Hopefully, this one will work properly. I went to that Lord of the Rings exhibit in Boston last week. It was a good time. Well, I had a good time and I think my mom did too. My sister and my father would have rather gone to see the Red Sox play instead, I think. They had a lot of really nice costumes to look at and all kinds of other really cool things (like swords, and jewelry and things like that). The only downside was that they didn't let you take pictures! One of the funniest things they had was this wall that you stood against and got told what Middle Earth race you were based on your height. My sister, who was "forced" to participate, was either a short dwarf or a tall hobbit (which was kind of ironic because she can look and act like Pippin sometimes) and my dad, also "forced" to participate, was a tall orc. Me? Well, I was a short elf. By the way, it is very east to get lost in Boston! My dad, who did the driving, spent a good hour trying to find the museum once we were in Boston. Anywho, Thanks as always for your reviews! You all rock like a box of socks and I always appreciate your comments.

Elleiadrieal: I'm glad you liked the post and I appreciate your review! Here's the next part!

Ljp: Ah...don't envy me. I had to nearly sign away my entire summer to get to go since my sister's not a fan. Now, I'm not allowed to pick movies, trips, or anything else like that until she feels like letting me. That'll probably be sometime next summer. Anywho, I'm glad you liked the chapter and the slightly less grumpy than usual Elrond. He's not going to go totally human so don't worry.

PixiePea000: HEY YOU! I'm glad you liked the way the troop was done. Those kids are a constant source of headaches for everyone around them (some more than others) and you're very welcome! See, I can write without using a cliffhanger, though I still love them very much. No fishnet wearing agents please otherwise I'll be forced to unleash the Dynamic Duo on them. Well all know how vicious they are. Anywho, GOLLUM and watch out for Agent Elrond Smith and the upgrades (since the Dynamic Duo might be too busy to look for them).

sunni07: Ah, a fellow student of Italian. I took three years in high school and, for whatever odd reason, remember some of it. I'll give all the translations at the end of the story, like I did with my first one. Most people always say I act like my mother but never know who I look like. They do agree, however, that my sister and I could be twins. That's not true though because my sister and I look NOTHING alike. We don't even act alike! My dance classes don't start until September, much to my sadness. I hope your classes went well!

Tracey: First off, I'm sorry if I came off a bit harsh last time. I didn't mean to come off like that. I am trying to improve my writing since I'm taking Creative Writing in school in the fall and I don't want a poor showing in the class to mess up my grade point average. That and I really like to write and I'd like to be able to write well. Your points are well taken and I understand where they are coming from. I really didn't mean for it to be so in your face and I thank you for your honesty.

Disclaimer: I own nothing except for a handful of made up characters. Tolkien thought up the concept and, as such, it belongs to him. I'm just playing in his world. I'm broke and in college. All I own are Pointe Shoes.

"You knew my father for quite sometime?" she questioned, turning the conversation again, trying to gain a measure of control in order to earn just a bit more information, "How? He's not an elf."

It was a valid question, to the elven lord's ears and in his mind. Humans were humans and lived among themselves. Elves were elves and they did likewise. At least, that was how he assumed Niphredil was seeing things. There was a nearly crystal clear divined between the two races obscured only by the fact there were half-elven folk, herself included.

"I raised your father after the untimely death of his father. His mother brought him to Rivendell for safekeeping for there were some would not want to see the line of kings restored," Elrond answered.

For some odd reason, Niphredil had a very hard time reconciling the image of the elven lord in front of her with the image of a father. Or the image of what a father she is like as she envisioned the role. There was just something about Elrond that did not strike her as fatherly. Unless there was something she had yet to see that would change her mind.

Giving her actual family a chance, no matter what her initial impression were, was something she was just going to have to learn to do. Not judging a book by its cover and everything else that fell along those lines.

"My mother said you forbade my parents from seeing each other until my father gained his throne. Why? That doesn't seem like a very fair thing to do," Niphredil, broached, carefully, gently.

She decided it was in both her own best interest and the best interest of her mother not to mention the reason her mother gave in reference to her grandfather's actions. The fact he set the boundary just because he felt her father would never take the throne.

"That is a question I would rather not answer for you. For now anyway. There are other things, other parts of the past that must be understood before I can explain that to you. I am sorry," Elrond answered, watching Niphredil's face fall.

She'd been subjected to far too many secrets in her life and had questions that deserved answers. Some answers, however, would have to wait until she knew more of her history. A history that would take quite sometime to learn and absorb as it covered an enormous length of history and encompassed both mortal and immoral kind.

Though disappointed by the lack of information, Niphredil filed the question away for later asking or, perhaps, for asking someone else who might have known the answer. The answer was out there, she knew that to be true, she just had to find it...or it had to find her. Whatever came first.

"Can I ask you another question?" Niphredil started, going to the next question she had on her mental list.

"You have already but you may ask another," Elrond countered, watching a strangely puzzled expression cross Niphredil's face.

She paused, replaying the past few moments in her mind before smiling. That counter was a painfully familiar one, oddly familiar in fact. She had a teacher, back in the Muggle World, who was famous- rather, infamous- for responding to questions like "Can I go to the bathroom" with "I'm sure you can." He wanted the "May I" version of the question to be asked, not the "Can I" version common among students.

Something that frighteningly familiar sent a chill up Niphredil's spine but placed said smile on her face. At least, there were some things that didn't change.

"May I ask you another question then, sir?" Niphredil tried again despite the fact she had been given permission to ask what she wanted.

It had been customary in the class, if the questioning error had been made to ask again using the proper form. Of course, the teacher was also infamous for saying "no" every time the properly spoken question was asked.

The half-elven maiden sincerely wished that not to be the case this time.

"That you may, my lady," Elrond responded, a slightly amused look on his face.

"My mother is your daughter," Niphredil started, unsure of how to politely ask the question she wanted, "and, I guess by my even being here as I am now, she and my father didn't do as they had been ordered. Do you harbor any ill feelings against them or against me?"

She was pretty sure the question was highly inappropriate and was somewhat personal but she had to know what feelings she evoked. Ill feelings she was use to and unsurprised by- she had dealt with them in the Muggle World- but she had to know if they were there. All other feelings, especially ones that were good and positive, always came as a surprise. The only people who ever showed positive feelings toward her even being around were Hope's family.

The question, apparently, did not come as a shock to the elven lord. Of course, she had asked somewhat similar questions to both her parents and they may have told him to be on the lookout for a question of similar nature.

"Allow me to answer the second part of your question first. You I harbor no ill feelings against. Unless there is something about you I do not know, you did not ask to be born into this situation. You are just an innocent player in all of this," Elrond stated taking care of her last concern first.

She gave him a simple nod, at a loss for worse at the moment. She had been told, by her mother, that she had been sent off because her grandfather's actions towards her were unpredictable at best. The answer he gave was not the one she had been expecting.

"And my parents?" she asked, finding her voice again.

"I can not say I was not angered with them for they both knew what they were and were not allowed to do. Your father, though, was a young moral and his actions were rash at best and impetuous at the worst. I have gotten past that fact, though, seen his side of the story and, as such, I do not feel I can be angry towards him. He was not the only person at fault," the older elf continued.

He would have gone on, said something more, if not for Niphredil interrupting him with, "So this boils down to my mother?"

He blinked, not understanding the very human, very Muggle World, statement she had used. The confusion was quick, passing over him like a breeze moving through the garden in which they sat. One minute it was there, the next it was gone.

The pause was enough to convince Niphredil that she had touched a nerve, had said something to offend the elven lord.

She opened her mouth to babble out a hastily put together apology when Elrond lifted a hand to silence her.

He wanted to answer her question; it had just taken him time to formulate that answer.

"She told me that you had started to call them mother and father," he commented, "though that has nothing to do with my answer to your question. I would be doing you a disservice by lying to you about my feelings and I am right to assume you have had quite enough lies in your life. I was angry with her for behind dishonest with me and for hiding you from me. I use to think she could tell me anything, as any parent would. Then I realized that I could not hold a grudge forever for she will not be around forever. Anger, itself, is not something I make policy of holding on to."

"You don't know what kind of relief it is for me to hear you say something like that," Niphredil stated, speaking slowly, "the last think I was to do is cause a rift to develop between anyone."

"No, I do not think you have caused a rift to develop between your parents, though I am sure you mother feared such a thing happening. The only rift I could foresee you causing is between the members of your father's council," Elrond added.

From the scant few whispers she had heard through out the citadel, Elrond's assumption was correct. Some members of the city's council were not all that thrilled with her being there. Then again, there was nothing they could do but sow seeds of discontent and see if they took root. If that plan worked, only time would tell.


	30. La Famiglia

AN: Hi all! Alas, alas school looms in the distance for me. Not that I don't like school, I actually do! It's just that I'm really nervous about the coming semester. I'm going to be a senior in September. That means looking for Graduate schools and stuff. Anyway, I hope everyone who has started school, is doing alright and not letting it get you down so much. About the only advice I can give you, is to find a mini-goal and stick to it. I usually do days until movies or DVDs come out or holidays. That way my semester winds up broken up into little mini-sections. Makes the time seem like it's going by faster and stuff. Anywho, as always, thanks for your reviews (good and bad). I appreciate them immensely and please keep them coming!

Alioth: Well, I'm sorry you find fault with my story. I write for fun and to pass the time between classes at school. This is what comes of that time. I, too, am sure this is going to wind up being a relatively long story since I only know how to write long stories and essays (much to the chagrin of some of my professors).

IrethAncalime3791: I remember you! Thanks for sticking along and thanks for your compliment. I greatly appreciate it. I had a teacher in high school who use to do the "Can I, May I" all the time, much to the annoyance of the class. I am quite glad you like the story and I hope you keep hanging around. Even for the story that comes after this one!

LadyJadePerendhil: Well, if I was taking votes, yours would be appreciated! Elrond doesn't want to influence her decision either way. Well, that's his initial intention. As for Aragorn's court, they're just not sure what to make of a half-grown (in human years anyway), half-elven princess-who-doesn't-want-to-be-a-princess who they feel will make their king look bad.

sunni07: Ah, it's alright! Being busy can drive a person insane! I hope everything going well for you, from your dancing to your gymnastics. I'm glad you liked the chapter, though! Here's the next one!

Disclaimer: I own nothing except for a handful of made up characters. Tolkien thought up the concept and, as such, it belongs to him. I'm just playing in his world. I'm broke and in college. All I own are Pointe Shoes.

Niphredil let that thought hang in the air for a few moments.

She knew her Father's council wasn't overly fond of her being in Middle Earth. There was something about her being a "transgression" on the part of her father the king and that her being in Middle Earth would shine a negative light on her father's rule. Make him look weak in the eyes of those who might try to take the throne from him and give them a way to take over.

She wasn't sure about the full extent of that, not knowing all that much about her home world and its running lead to that ignorance on her part, but she could understand where they were coming from. After all, a strong leader had a better chance of keeping his city safe than a weak one. History books in the Muggle World had told her that much many times over.

She figured time would shine more light on that situation. Time she'd like to take if given the chance, though she wasn't quite sure how one was educated in this place.

The question led to another break in the conversation, another long silent pause between the pair. Save for the usually noises associated with a busy city, the air was still.

"How are you and your parents getting along?" Elrond asked, breaking the silence as a hammer breaks glass.

He had asked a similar question of Arwen and received her answer. Despite the fact he trusted her answer; he wanted to hear what Niphredil had to say on the situation. Her answer could be far different, in either sense if the word. She could contradict her mother- Something he assumed she was not going to do. - or she could give him more information about the relationship she was slowly developing with both her parents. The latter of the two was more his wish.

Niphredil thought for a moment, biting her lower lip as she did/ A bad habit, a very human behavior, she knew. Something she had to work on stopping no matter what fate she decided she wanted.

Pushing that decision away from her mind, though she knew she was going to have to deal with it in due time, she, slowly, answered, "It's strange really because I have these memories from when I initially lived here. I remember my mother and some things about her. Now, though, it's like I'm starting from scratch again since she's different and I'm different."

She shrugged trying to find more words but not really having any luck. What memories she had of her first go around in Middle Earth were trying to force their way to the surface of her mind, trying to break the soap bubble shaped but diamond hard walls of the dome she had tried so long to keep them under.

True, some had slipped past her defenses and appeared as dreams but the majority were safely under wraps in her mind. Those wraps were loosening, though, allowing more and more of her memories to come to the fore. Whether that was a good or a bad thing, she couldn't say. It was, however, disconcerting to say the least.

"That is good to hear," Elrond said, trying to reassure the half-elven maiden, "I am sure your mother would be most displeased if she heard you had lost all of your memories from your short time here. What of your father?"

That question brought a small smile to Niphredil's face. She liked talking about her father for she had always tried to guess what he was like. After all, she could recall a female parent but never a male one. Having one now, was something she was very intrigued by.

"Though I do not recall him from when I was younger, he and I are getting along. Better than I ever expected, really. I do believe he's trying his hardest to be a good father, despite the fact he's not quite sure what he's going. I guess, the best I can do is try to be a good daughter, even if I'm not sure how," she answered, though she sounded none to confident with her answer.

"Why are you not sure how? Did you not have parents in the Muggle World?" Elrond questioned, sounding a bit taken aback.

He had assumed that being someone's daughter came as naturally to the child as some instincts did to the parents.

Niphredil hesitated for a fraction of a second. Any proper answer to that question would have required her going into detail about the life she led in the other world. That was a life she wasn't all too keen on bringing up in her new situation, among members of her new family. Those memories had already caused her enough mental damage.

"My situation in the other world is something I'd rather not talk about," she, truthfully, answered, "Suffice to say, it wasn't exactly the happiest of times there. I wound up with a family who weren't exactly all that pleased with me."

In return for his truthful answers- the ones he had given her- Niphredil felt she was obligated to be truthful as well. Some secrets were being kept on both sides and she saw this as a very fair and equal trade.

Elrond nodded, showing he accepted even her partial answer.

"And your family here? Do you find them of a higher quality? Are their efforts better than the ones once made?" he asked, giving her more questions and more food for thought.

"Their efforts are better, much better in many ways. They have been nothing be nice and accepting towards me and that I appreciate very much. For a while, I was afraid that I was going to find myself in a situation where I was highly unwanted, "she replied after a time.

"They understand that children are gifts, daughters and sons alike," Elrond replied, a strange sort of look on his face.

It was like a smile but not. There was something knowing behind it, something more he wasn't saying or acting on. That garnered Niphredil's curiosity but she shunted it aside.

"Unlike Emma's father," she quipped, instead.

Much to her surprise, Elrond gave a short laugh. That was not the reaction she had been expecting from the stern looking elf lord.

"Have you been talking to Emma, Legolas, or your father about Thranduil?" he wanted to know.

"Emma, mostly," Niphredil admitted around a laugh.

That was one conversation she wasn't likely to forget anytime soon.

_**FLASHBACK**_

Niphredil and Emma made their way through one of the lower levels of the city, being tailed at a distance by two guards who felt they were being stealthy. They'd been easily picked out though, as they walked along.

She was doing as she was told though, ignoring the pair and walking as if they were not there. Emma had said that was the best course of action, lest they start a fight between the pair.

They were sisters, the young elf had told her, elven ones who called themselves Ice and Fire. She had said that if they were to openly notice them, Fire would have something to say about it. As her name indicated, she had a very fiery temperament. Her sister, the older of the pair, was cooler, calmer, more collected, occasionally the living embodiment of her moniker of Ice.

"Just keep walking," Emma said, in a hushed tone, "They'll follow behind and decide to show themselves eventually. Pretend you don't see them."

Niphredil nodded and the pair walked. Through the city they went with their ever present guards behind them. It was a large city, oddly arranged in concentric rings though which gates allowed access from one level to the next.

"Is you home like this?" Niphredil asked Emma, curiously.

"Nope, nothing like this. I don't think there's a place in Middle Earth that rivals this city in set-up and function," she answered with a smile.

"But your home is also run by a king, right?" she questioned, "He's your father if my memory serves me correctly."

Emma made a sour looking face at the mention of her father. That was one topic, akin to Niphredil's reluctance to talk about her past, was somewhat sensitive to Emma.

"My biological father is the Lord of Mirkwood. My father's just a grumpy guy who isn't all that happy about being here," Emma corrected in a smallish voice.

There was a difference, in her mind, about the father who had contributed to her being born and the father who had raised her. Other than the obvious, anyway. Thranduil was the Lord of Mirkwood and the elf who just happened to be a genetic contributor to her being alive. The word "father" was attached to Mitchell, the man who had helped raise her.

"Sorry about that. I forgot about the whole name thing with you. Your biological father is the king there," Niphredil amended.

A thought crossed her mind and began begging to be expounded upon. There was something she was quite eager to know.

"Why do you call him that? Your biological father, I mean," she questioned.

Emma looked a bit unhappy to hear that question. She wanted to tell the truth, though. As an overture of friendship to the other from-the Muggle-World-elf.

"He's not all that nice to me. He sent me here with my brother just to get me out of his halls. I guess, he considers me some kind of mistake that he really has no need to either admit to or to deal with. That and, I guess, he's a bit sour about the fact my parents- the ones who raised me- are staying here and that Legolas allowed me the title of princess. I think he just wanted me to, sort of, sink into the background of his kingdom and not to ever bother him. In the position I was given, however, it's highly unlikely that would happen," Emma answered with a slight shrug.

As they continued walking, Niphredil found a way to continue getting Emma to talk about her father and the kingdom she hailed from. The more she found out, though, the less she liked the elf Emma could have called father.

She sincerely hoped her own was nothing like that.

_**END FLASHBACK**_

"I assumed you had been speaking to young Princess Emma. Let us not discuss the Lord of Mirkwood for I would rather not get angry. His treatment of that child is appalling to say the least," Elrond answered.

Something Elrond had said earlier in their discourse caught Niphredil's attention. It had gone overlooked in her shock about the decision she was being asked to make.

Now, though, she could question on it.

"You mentioned something about having sons. Does that mean I have uncles? What are they like? Are they here?" she asked in rapid fire succession.

Elrond seemed slightly amused with her questioning and how they were delivered to him. Her eagerness to learn about her family was both a blessing and a curse in that it could give her a link to her past- One she didn't know she had. – but could be quite overwhelming considering the length and breadth of that past.

"You have two uncles, Niphredil, for my sons are twins and they are of the strangest nature. When the need suits them, they are dedicated and serious. They are loyal to what cause they are championing and are as fierce as any enemy they have faced. When they feel the need suits them, though, they are very much like children and seem to enjoy causing small amount of trouble. I have brought them with me though I fear your father will not be pleased with that," Elrond answered.

That description seemed to click properly with something she had learned from her mother. It was her brothers that had taught her how to properly sneak into a kitchen and raid its contents. She had also said the same brothers would have been very disappointed if said skills were not passed on to her child.

"Will I get to meet them?" Niphredil brought up.

"I assume you will eventually. Under what circumstance, though, I can not say," the Elven lord answered, "Last I heard, they found themselves riding with the sisters, Ice and Fire."

An odd look crossed Niphredil's face. Had she not see twin figures talking to Ice and Fire? With what she had learned, those twin figures were most likely her uncles.

"That would explain why they looked so much like my mother," she mused, happy that she had been able to put a few small pieces of the larger puzzle together.

Of course, the rest of the pieces lay scattered about the table for her to put in at a later time and place. She'd just have to make do with what she knew now.

"Is there anything else you'd like to know about me, sir? I think I've asked you quite enough questions about everything," she asked, trying her best to sound as polite as possible.

She'd asked a great many questions and felt that she might have dissuaded Elrond from asking her anything.

"There is one thing," he started.


	31. Le Differenze

AN: Hi all! I just got back from going to see the NY Mets play the Florida Marlins for Italian night (went to Irish Day, too, but that was over the weekend). Of course, the Mets, my poor, poor team of choice, lost despite the fact three players (including the returning Mike Piazza) hit home runs. I did, however, catch a t-shirt during the team's "Pepsi T-Shirt Launch" which was kind of cool considering I've never done that before and I spend an inordinate amount of my summer at Shea Stadium (home to the NY Mets and the Shea faithful). Anywho, school starts for me next Tuesday (along with my dance classes and Girl Scout stuff later that week) and, of course, it has to start with Microbiology Lab at the wonderful time of 8:30AM. I don't mind the early time, though, since it means I get out early too. Oh the fun of college! Thanks, as always, to my reviewers. You lot are truly the best and I appreciate all your comments...good, bad, or indifferent!

Mystic-realm: I'm glad you liked the story and the chapter. Good luck with your math and I'm glad my advice helped. Math's not one of my favorite subjects in any form it takes. That includes the math-hidden-as-science known as Physics. Again, I wish you lots of luck!

IrethAncalime3791: Sorry about the cliffhanger thing. It's kind of a bad habit I should try to break before taking Creative Writing. I'm not sure about the anti-Mary-Sue patrol either. They seem a bit harsh but that's just me. I'm glad that some like my story, though. It makes me quite happy. I'll see what I can do about an Aragorn/Elrond meeting a bit later!

LJP: That one thing coming up! The chapter was supposed to be longer but my sister decided to come in and bother me for a few hours. Since I'm pretty darn sure my mother would have screamed her head off at me if I'd gone to bed later than I was already going to bed, I had to cut where I was going to end the chapter. Hence the reason for the cliffhanger and this chapter!

Anonymous: First things, first, I hope school went well. The first few days (or weeks, in my sister's case) are always the toughest. I'm sorry, if the question was a distraction for you but here's the question and its answer!

Disclaimer: I own nothing except for a handful of made up characters. Tolkien thought up the concept and, as such, it belongs to him. I'm just playing in his world. I'm broke and in college. All I own are Pointe Shoes.

Niphredil sat silently, waiting for whatever he was going to ask her. She was curious as to its nature, of course. It could have been anything from something she didn't want to answer about her past to something she could answer, like about her feelings towards her new home or her parents or something from her past she felt she could speak freely about.

It seemed those she had spoken to- save Emma who knew far too much about the Muggle World- seemed interested in the day to day activities of those living in the other world. Perhaps it was akin to her curiosity about the nature of her new home...something naturally felt when confronted with a new situation.

Of course, she could only tell them of what she knew and of what she wanted to tell them. There were things she could not speak of either because she had never experienced them or because she had and she felt it was in her best interest not to speak of them. They still hurt too much, like a phantom pain from a limb that had been removed so many years ago.

She knew that she was going to have to square away with those memories, much like she had to clear the air between herself and both her parents. That time, though, she hoped was in the far future. Everything here was still too new, too fresh, too amazing to her. The taint those memories- most of those memories- was not something she wanted staining the new memories she was busily creating.

"Are you armed?" Elrond asked, startling Niphredil form her thoughts.

Out of all the questions she had been toying with in her head that was one of the few she hadn't thought of. It seemed, to her, out of place given the course of their conversation. They had been talking about families and parentage and things along those lines. Weapons and warfare were not even mentioned. Unless she missed something, which she strongly hoped she didn't.

That would have had her feeling quite foolish for she was trying to give this elf her utmost attention.

"Armed, as in with a weapon? Not now. Why do you ask?" she replied, though she knew it was quite rude to answer a question with questions of her own.

Elrond appeared, momentarily, disappointed with her answer.

"I was told," he explained, seeing her expression change from one of shock to one of dismay, "by a party I would rather not give a name to that you arrived here with an odd weapon. A sword of some type, I was led to believe. I would have liked to have seen it."

"I've been keeping it in my room. I wasn't sure how others would react to seeing it. I'm not sure if it differs any from the weaponry carried here," she admitted, sounding sheepish.

With the guards around the citadel being the only exception, she had not seen much of anything where weapons were concerned. Maybe it was a result of the peace that seemed to reign over the city but she wasn't all that sure. Not that she was wishing for something terrible to happen just so she could satisfy her curiosity and her need to test her own skills against those of the people who lived in Middle Earth.

"Gandalf told you I came here with a weapon?" she broached, "I'm curious as to what else he told you."

Thinking fast, she hastily added, "Not that I want to seem self absorbed or anything. It's just that I am curious about what was made of one of my favorite hobbies in the Muggle World."

With an odd smile- She'd decided that smiling wasn't something Elrond did on a regular enough basis to make the look entirely natural. - Elrond grew thoughtfully silent. He had been told a great many things about the form of defense his granddaughter chose to practice. To him, it sounded quite odd given how she should have been trained. The style differed a great deal from that used by both elves and men in Middle Earth. Of course, the Muggle World itself different in so many ways from this world. Ways, Elrond was relieved to know, that would never come to be realized in this world. Unless a great many changes too place.

"I was told that it was something called martial arts and that you were well trained in some strange sort of sword place and unarmed combat. The only one who could make any sense of it was, Emma. Though she claimed she knew very little about it for she had no experience with it herself," he, finally, answered.

Niphredil allowed herself a small laugh. It made sense that Emma was the only one who understood. After all, she'd most likely seen various forms of martial arts in the Muggle World. Be those forms in movies or on television or in person.

That decided, Niphredil came to the conclusion that the fighting style used in Middle Earth differed greatly from the one she had chosen to learn. A test of skill, of her fighting style against the one employed in this world, seemed like something she was going to have to undertake someday. Just to see if the two could be melded together or were entities so separated that they could not, like oil and water, be combined.

"It's called Tae Kwan Do, a form of martial arts from the Muggle World. I was one of three girls that managed to earn a high honor called a black belt within the dojo I trained in. It was that honor that allowed my trained to present me with my sword. Well, that and the fact I won a great many competitions with that sword," she answered.

Her answer brought not clarity to the face of her grandfather. Rather the could of confusion grew to something that amounted to a fog of confusion. Of a cloud that had touched ground and settled there obscuring everything from the lights of the streets to the faces of those walking along the clouded ways.

Fogs could be lifted though in a great many ways. They could move with the wind, being blown off only to settle somewhere else. They could also be burned off by the sun, bringing light to the obscured streets and by-ways.

Of the fog clouding the face of the eleven lord before her, Niphredil decided the latter route was her best choice of removal. Only the brightness of knowledge, like the brightness of the sun, could remove the fog. It was up to her to provide that knowledge, like it was up to the sun to burn off the fog on the streets.

She took a deep breath and let it out. This explanation was going to take quite some time for her to properly word and figure out in order for that knowledge to be properly conveyed. Lest more clouds add to the fig and she find that the task before her was insurmountable.

Starting slowly, Niphredil explained the nature of Tae Kwan Do- as taught to her by Doc- and how she was one member in a larger group that was trained to use their skills in the real world, the world outside of class, only when the need was dire and physical conflict could not be avoided. She told him of competitions where her skills were put to the test against the skills of others or alone before a panel of judges.

Words painted pictures of flying fists and feet. Of skilled young adults doing what was both useful and pleasurable. Of a type of fighting that seemed to be both flowing and abrupt. Of using the mind and the body in conjunction with one another. Of working so closely with others that a "sixth sense," a precognition almost, developed to the point where motions could be predicted from experience.

"I am not sure I fully understand what you are speaking of, my child. This is an art form we do not know about here. And you say that there were females among your group that shared your skills?" Elrond questioned, after listening with rapt attention about her experiences with the mysterious martial arts.

"Well, it wasn't so much of a 'boys only' club and our skills were nothing close to being the same. True we were trained by the same teacher and we all learned the same moves but we were farm from being the same. Everyone one of us took what we were taught and gave it a personal touch," Niphredil answered, shy smile on her face.

Differences, something not to be celebrated in the Muggle World where she was concerned, were not something to be openly displayed. They were to be kept hidden behind closed doors until they could be properly broken down and sameness, uniformity, established.

Doc, though, felt otherwise. To him, in his humble opinion, differences were something to be celebrated and put on displays for the mutual benefit of all.

_**FLASHBACK**_

Once a month, classes were different. Once a month the boys were asked to stay home and not come to class. They were told to stay away, for their own safety of course. Doc was busy training his girls and, if they dared to break the rules and to show up, they were going to be asked to spar each and everyone of the girls not once, not twice, but thrice.

Females had come and gone in the class. Leaving for a variety of reasons and giving excuses that were as see through as the windows that lined the storefront area of the dojo. Some had said that the class was boring. Others that they were busy. Still more said that they just lacked the time to complete the training.

In truth, they were afraid of getting hurt and of taking a hit form the boys- or even the other girls- in the class.

Doc claimed, though, that this only proved the mettle of the three girls who had chosen to stick with their training and to move up the ranks until he had three black belted females on his hands.

They were his girls, his "Furious Angels," and, once a month, they got a class to themselves.

In the class, he taught them what he felt every female should know about defended herself on the mean streets of the world. They learned how to fend off would be purse snatchers and other less savory types of attackers. His worked paid dividends when Carla, by and far the toughest of the trio, came in with a broken half of a knife wielded by someone who had attempted to mug her on the way to class. Doc had been so pleased with the way she had handled the would be attacker that he had the broken weapon mounted for her.

Niphredil, herself, never went spoiling for a fight. She never wanted that kind of recognition. Just knowing she could handle that type of situation brought a certain type of pride to her. She wasn't helpless like Jane and some of the others she knew. She could take care of herself if the need arose.

It was in one of these special classes that Doc presented his "Furious Angels" with a proposition. One of his friends, and fellow Tae Kwan Do instructors, was paying him a visit. With him was coming his three best female students under the pretense that Doc and his female students could learn a thing or two from them.

"I sincerely doubt that," came the haughty reply of Angie, "I'm the single most skilled female in the entire class. Siddy told me so."

Niphredil cough to cover up the snigger that threatened to bubble out of her. She couldn't imagine Sid telling Angie anything of the sort. If anything, he always had some small criticism for everyone in the class. They were always meaningful, though, said more to help than to harm. He wanted to see them improve in everyway possible.

"Well, we can't let that happen. What are we going to do, Doc?" Carla asked, bringing the conversation back to its original starting point.

"I was thinking about putting on a similar display. One that highlights your individual styles and strengths though forms, set to music maybe," Doc suggested.

Forms, Niphredil well knew, were set chains of motions that were used to show just how much they had learned and were put on display during a "belt test." Everyone learned the same forms in the same way but individual differences created subtle nuances in them. No two people did the forms the same way, just because no two people were the same.

Plan agreed upon by all, they got to work.

For weeks they drilled the two forms they were going to display, working with a piece of music aptly titled "Furious Angels" by Rob Dougan. The piece, chosen by the boys in the class once they got wind of the plan, was good for working with for it didn't overwhelm the listener. Instead, it provided a backdrop for the forms that enhanced what was being shown. It gave the motions body and strength, a sort of musical soul that the plain motions lacked.

When the day finally arrived, Niphredil felt as tight as a knotted cord. She was afraid of messing up, of casting a negative light on her trainer. She wanted to do her best in the worst way. The disparaging glances she, Angie, and Carla received from the three students the other teacher brought with him didn't exactly help either.

"Ladies, I'd like you to meet an old friend. This is Roland," Doc said, as the other trainer surveyed the three girls.

Roland was a tall man, a head and a half taller than Doc and far better built. He was study, muscular without being heavy or clumsy, and had a powerful air about him. He looked as if he could break anyone smaller than he in half without even trying.

The same air Roland carried seemed to transfer over to the trio of students he had brought with him. They rivaled Carla in height and Angie in intensity on their faces. All were dark of hair and of eye and were quite tall in stature, looking more like clones than individual humans.

"It's pleasure to meet you," Roland stated, though his face said otherwise, "allow me to introduce my students. That's Katy, Juliana, and Simone."

The three girls just glared down their noses at Carla, Angie, and Niphredil. They, like their instructor, looked as of they could not be bothered with the trio, Doc's "Furious Angels." Doc's team that consisted of three members who ran the extremes of appearance and build.

"So, shall we do this?" Doc brought yup, breaking the heavy silence in the normally lighthearted room.

"Yes, lets. I can't wait for you to see what my girls can do," Roland answered, obviously proud of his team.

A few minutes later, owing to the fact Roland's team had to change into their gear; Niphredil found herself sitting against one of the walls in the dojo. On her left sat Angie and Carla. Doc and Roland sat to her right.

"Pay attention, little ladies. You can learn a thing or two from these girls," Roland stated, talking to Doc's girls as if they were little children.

A scathing glare from Doc had them all biting back the comments they wanted to spit at the other instructor. They were not lesser students nor were they poorly trained. They were different, that was true, but that was not a bad thing. If anything, it gave the team character. Character Roland's team sorely lacked in their communal opinions.

No music accompanied the work done by Roland's trio. Instead, they simply sparred for a quarter of an hour.

Niphredil had to admit- though she was loath to do so- that they were skilled and were powerful. They were well trained and could adapt to any situation. Moves appeared to be improvised at a regular rate allowing for a greater degree of improvisation.

Despite all that, they're sameness bothered her. There was nothing personal about the way they moved and the way they confronted each other. Even the way they adapted and improvised seemed to be the same in some small scale ways.

"They're good, Roland, very good. It's a shame, though," Doc commented, getting to his feet and hobbling over to the radio.

"Why's it a shame, Doc?" Roland questioned, after beaming at his team.

Doc allowed his students to take the floor and arrange themselves in size order ranks. Being the tallest, Carla stood at the far right with Angie in the middle and Niphredil, being the shortest, on the far left.

"Because my girls are just that much better," he commented, just before turning the radio on.

The music and the motions carried Niphredil away, moving her to their subtle rhythms. She became one with both, well practiced motions making all the jitters she once had fade into memory. She was comfortable in the situation, well in control of what she was going.

First they did their forms together as a way to highlight the unity their shared motions provided, the bond it created between them. To show that despite the differences in outward appearance, they were all on the same skill level. They were all up to the challenge some of the higher forms provided.

Then they did them separately. This was to show their differences, the small somethings that made them unique individuals.

Carla being the eldest in the group, both in age and in skill, went first. Her motions were powerful and strong, imposing to even those who trained with her. She moved as if she was fighting against something but no one, save her, could say what that something was.

After her came Angie. For all her flightiness and flakiness, she fought with a inner fire that burned brighter than a thousand suns. She tackled the moves with a certain type of spirit that was indefinable, uniquely her own.

Finally, Niphredil had her chance. The butterflies were gone and she was in her own zone. The one place where no one could bother her and even the Joneses couldn't reach her. Like a whirling, twisting tornado she moved. The strange grace that gave her silent footfalls and, sometimes, a flexibility that rivaled Olympic gymnasts came to the fore. Every move was swift and practiced, yet graceful in their own ways.

The piece ended with them, once again, unified under the same common banner with the same common moves, the same common forms. This was to reinforce the fact that, despite their differences, they were still a working unit, a cohesive team.

"Well, what do you have to say to that?" Doc asked, giving Roland a moment to digest what he had just witnessed.

"What are they?" he asked, stammering a bit.

The lack of uniform appearance had led him to believe that this was a team of lesser strength than his own. Their differences had torn a whole in the heart of Doc's work and, without a heart; it lacked the ability to survive.

Yet, there it was. Alive and well, with a strong heart beat. The beat provided by the differences in Doc's "Furious Angels."

_**END FLASHBACK**_

"Why did you ask if I was armed?" Niphredil brought up, batting away the thick memories from before her eyes.

"Despite the relative peace that you see here, a lady should not go about unarmed. There are dark things still in the world that have not yet fallen," Elrond answered.

She wanted to ask more, have him elaborate on just what that meant, when a spot of movement caught her eye. There was someone standing in one of the entrances waiting to be noticed.


	32. Pulisca L'Aria

AN: I'm sorry for the lateness of this chapter everyone! I started classes today at school, with a Microbiology Lab at 8:30AM. Great class, though, and the lad was a good time. Extremely nerve wracking but a good time. I'm going to have to pick a new update day since I have an early lab this semester. I promise, though, I'm going to keep updated. This stuff keeps me sane when the semester gets really crazy. I also started dance classes today! After an entire summer, it's one of the best feelings in the world to put on tap shoes or jazz sneakers and get down to dancing. I don't start ballet until Saturday, though, but that's worth the wait! Ballet is, probably my favorite class out of all the dance classes I've ever taken. I'm hoping all of you, my always wonderful reviewers, are going to be of great help to me this semester. I'm taking creative writing and I'm using whatever advice all of you have given me to help improve my writing skills. Please keep those reviews coming!

pixie88: Hi there! I hope your move went well and your classes are going well too! She's going to find someone to tell everything to…eventually. I'm glad you like the whole martial arts part. I was afraid that it wasn't going to work out. You are right, her martial arts is somewhat like Emma's dancing. They're both things that have shaped them and have made them who they are. I'm glad you liked the chapter and I apologize for the shoddy grammar. If I recall correctly, I was writing this chapter at about 3:30AM.

Ms. Unknown: You're very welcome! Here's the next part and, again, I apologize for it being late. I'm going to try my best not to make that happen again.

IrethAncalime3791: And thank you, as always. No matter how many times I say it I have to say it one more time: You reviewers are the best and make putting this story up worthwhile. You shall see who is waiting in the shadows and what he/she/it is going to do to the folks waiting. The conversation you want is also coming up. Elrond's confronted nearly everyone else related to Niphredil, save Aragorn. He's going to have something to say to the resident king. Again, I'm glad you like this story!

sunni07: It's quite alright. I hope everything sorted out with you on your side. I'm quite glad you liked the two chapters and here's the next one. Albeit, a late one but it's up nonetheless.

LJP: Niphredil will find herself a love interest once she figures out just what she wants to do in Middle Earth. I already have one in mind for her, actually. I just have to get there, first. She may yet do some comparing of Elrond to Agent Smith, since she knows about the movie character. As for the person waiting off in the wings, well, that's going to be revealed quite soon! Very soon, actually. She'll also get to meet Lady Galadriel in order to have some…things…explained to her.

(_Estel_- elvish word for "hope," also Aragorn's name when he was being raised in Rivendell)

Disclaimer: I own nothing except for a handful of made up characters. Tolkien thought up the concept and, as such, it belongs to him. I'm just playing in his world. I'm broke and in college. All I own are Pointe Shoes.

She opened her mouth to say something but Elrond silenced her with a glance. He, too, had noticed the movement on the edge of his vision. The figure did not seem a threat but one could never be sure. There were things one could never discern from mere appearance.

Though the citadel was well guarded, not just with mortal guards but with a cadre of elven rangers lead by an ancient elf- No one was quite sure how old he was and he was not keen on telling anyone anytime soon- who designated himself as Captain. It was under his leadership that Ice and Fire worked, though Ice had all the markings of a leader herself. She preferred being a tactician, working out careful plans for a small strike team of elves she had come to befriend.

"We see you," Niphredil called, "and your skulking about over there is none to comforting. Have you been listening to our conversations?"

No sooner had the words left her mouths, Niphredil regretted them.

Looking none to pleased with her role as a simple page was Fire. As her name indicated, a wave of preverbal fire- whatever emotion that was supposed represent be it anger or something else- passed through the grayish eyes of the light haired elven female. She had taken offense to Niphredil's comments. Most keenly to the one that called into question her honor. She had not been listening to their conversation, despite what Niphredil stated.

With a almost pleading look, Niphredil stared at the other entrances. She was hoping to spot the one person- Elf? - that could temper Fire's rage. That being her sister and the holder of a higher rank, Ice.

Her search was in vain however. Ice was no where to be seen. She would have to face the wrath of Fire on her one.

"Not on my own," she, suddenly, realized as she caught the stern look that had fallen over Elrond's features.

"You have something to say, Fire," he said, standing up and taking a regal looking stance, "Deliver your message and be done with it. Then you can return to your sister or to Captain or to whomever you desire."

Despite the fact both his tone and posture frightened Niphredil slightly, Fire refused to quail. She stared Elrond in the eyes, defiance pained all over her face, almost like some sort of odd mask. She wanted to show him what she was not afraid and was an elven maiden to be reckoned with. It was in her nature to want to appear tougher than she really was.

"You are wanted in Lord Aragorn's study, sir," she snapped, "he respectfully requests to speak with you as soon as you are able or as soon as possible. I am not quite sure which term he used, sir."

Elrond seemed slightly amused by Fire's message, his posture changing ever so slightly revealed that much. It was quickly covered over, though, with well practiced skill. It seemed he expected some vagueness in Fire's message. Some purposeful way to get her "revenge" after she had been "dishonored."

"My child, I will speak with you again. I am very interested in this 'martial arts' you spoke of and I wish to see some type of demonstration. Perhaps a test of skills against you and Lady Fire, someday," Elrond said, turning to Niphredil.

Thinking it the best idea, she gave him another bow and smiled.

"I was very pleased to meet you, sir, and I will give that decision you presented me with some serious thought. I promise I will not take too long," she stated, giving him a thoughtful look.

The decision she was being asked to make had not entered into her mind for sometime. Now that she had mentioned it again, even in passing as she had, it started to play on her mind again. Her mood fell and her expressional visibly darkened. It was not a decision to be made lightly, that much she knew.

Seeing the change, Elrond, in an almost undertone, said, "Do not think on it too much today. Enjoy the day. There will come a time for decision making but it is not today."

Niphredil looked confused but managed a nod. That sounded like some type of foresight to her. As if he knew whether or not she was going to be making any major decisions in the very near future. It sounded like sound advice, though, and she was determined to take it.

It was a day to enjoy just being alive and part of the world. Something she was quickly learning came easily when one was happy. In the other world her happy times came only when she was in the company of her scant few friends or her Tae Kwan Do class. Here, though, it seemed to be a pleasure just being alive. Everyday was a new day to learn something about herself or her new home. Even with that much, she was content. It helped to be surrounded, mostly, by people who actually wanted here there. That, in and of itself, was a weird feeling.

"I will try, sir, I really will," she assured Elrond.

After exchanging another round of farewells, the two parted company, Elrond taking the rather annoyed looking Fire down to the study with him. I would not suit to leave the angry elven maiden- nay, warrior- with Niphredil lest tempers flared again.

Large doors, massive carved creations with almost as large shining knobs, separated Aragorn's study from the hustle and bustled of everyday life. They were imposing, almost as imposing as the man working on the other side of them. Imposing to anyone who was not friend or family to the king in any case.

"I will take my leave," Fire spat, bowing her way out of the hall.

Where she went, Elrond failed to note, as said doors opened with an audible creak. Silent as a shadow, moving with the silent speed all elves moved with, he entered the vast room.

It took a full minute before Aragorn and Elrond even acknowledged each others presence.

"My Lord Elrond," Aragorn said, rising from his desk and whatever work he had been doing, "forgive me for I did not see you standing there. I am afraid you have caught me somewhat off guard. I was not expecting you until much later. Things turned ill?"

"Sit, please. Do not be so formal. I am here to visit my family, not the King of Gondor," Elrond reprimanded with a slight laugh, "the only thing that turned ill was the messenger you sent. Fire does not take to doing anything she sees as underneath her well, I take it."

It was Aragorn's turn to laugh as he gestured for Elrond to take a seat on the other side of the large desk he was working at. Pieces of parchment and other items were quickly piled away, leaving just a blank expanse between the two men.

Two who were so alike yet unlike. Both were Lords of their respective lands and were held in high regard by the people under them. They were good rulers, offering aid and bringing hope to their kingdoms. They were battle tested, hardened like diamonds in the heat of battle, forged like steel. Warriors they were, fighting for what was a common cause---to rid Middle Earth of evil once and for all.

Both were now family men, wives and children depended on them.

Of course, Elrond's children were grown- adults in their own right- where Aragorn's daughter was still very much a child and saw Middle Earth as such. True too was the fact that Aragorn's wife was still with him. Elrond's had departed Westward, never to touch the shores of Middle Earth again, ages ago.

The glaring difference between the elven lord and the human king was that they did not see each other as equals or even rivals. Forevermore they would be linked as father and son.

"Fire is like that," he commented, "she was the only one I could locate in order to act as a messenger. It seems all of my pages have taken their leave for the day."

For a few heartbeats, the room was silent and a strange tension filled the room. There was something that needed to be said but either man was afraid of saying it.

"You did not call me here to talk about pages and Fire. This has nothing to do with them and everything to do with your daughter, does it not," Elrond stated, saying what needed to be said.

"Aye, that it does," Aragorn agreed, "I wanted to know how things went with her. Your feelings towards her or her parents, perhaps."

That was the crux of the matter, the heart of the problem. Aragorn wanted to know if his esteem in his foster-father's eyes had fallen. That he, who was thought of as a father, saw him in an ill favored light now that he learned of his actions. His breaking of the mandate that had been set down for him all those long years ago.

"_Estel_, you know I must be angry with you. I set down that mandate for your own good. This was your destiny," Elrond stated, making an expansive gesture not to indicating the room they sat in but the kingdom Aragon ruled, "You broke an agreement that should have never been breached. I would call you to task for 'dishonoring' my daughter by your actions if the situation was different. If I had found out of your actions sooner, I would have never allowed you to marry my Arwen. I would have had her sail West no matter how much hope she had in you. No matter how much she loved you."

He sighed, anger spent, for he could not undo what had been done. There was no one in Middle Earth who could such a thing. It was unheard of, like bringing back the dead.

"I can not change the past, though. Your actions, no matter how embarrassing they may be, can not be taken back. I do not begrudge your daughter- nor would I ever for she is my kin and had no choice in the matter- but I am hurt. That hurt will heal, though it will take sometime. I expect you will do an admirable job of raising her no matter what choice she makes," the elven lord finished.

He waited, watching Aragorn process the information he had just learned. Behind the king's eyes, he could see ideas forming and being discarded. Thoughts were jumbled up and put together in more or less coherent orders. If the situation had been different, it might have been amusing. Not with this topic, though. Not with so much on the line.

"I am glad you feel that way. Your anger is a comfort to me for I would not have my actions be accepted in such an easy way. I broke a most important decree and, for that, I deserve your anger. In equal measure, though, I appreciate that you harbor no ill will for my daughter. It is true; she was given no choice in this matter. I hope, in time, your anger will heal, if you chose to allow it to," Aragorn commented, as his shock abated.

"Choice is always a problem. To make a choice requires you to have both a reason and a purpose. I have both a reason and a purpose to allow my anger to heal, _Estel_. I cannot harbor life long grudges. Nor would I ever want to," Elrond assured the king.

With the air clear, the room fell strangely silent. A breeze rushed through, oddly enough. A sigh, maybe, that the air had truly been cleansed between the pair. The old, stale air pushed away to allow new, sweet air to enter the space.

"You have told Niphredil of her choice?" Aragorn questioned, almost tentative in his delivery.

"I have. It is truly terrible for someone so young to have to make such a decision. There is nothing we can do about it, though. She will have to decide in order for me to decide what it to become of me," Elrond answered.

"I only hope she is ready to make such a decision. The implications are something she may not be able to fathom at her young age with too short a time in her true home," Aragorn worried.

"She is ready to make such a decision. It is on par with the one she made to come here. To leave everything she had ever known, no matter how evil and vile it was, and to come to a strange place with no friends and only a spider's thread thin link to a family she'd never known. She is mature enough to understand the implications of whatever she choices," the elven lord assured Aragorn.

Even Niphredil's ultimate fate was hidden from his foresight. He could no more guess what choice she was going to make then stop the sun from rising. It was up to her now. To her though processes and her experiences, whatever those may be.

That seemed to reassure Aragorn. For so long, he had come to thinking of Niphredil as a hapless child. For, to the elves, she was just a child with too few winters in her. To the race of men, though, she was nearly grown. Almost ready to strike out and being searching for someone to start a family with.

Though his daughter looked like a child, she had the wisdom of the race of men in her as well. Tough times she had gone though had helped, not hindered her growth. If anything it made her stronger. That gave her father some comfort.

"She will stay here, though," Aragorn wanted to know, "not feels the need to return to the other world and remain there?"

One did not need foresight to guess the answer to that query.

"She may want to pay a visit someday to that world, if only to deal with what she left. I can promise you, though; that she will chose to remain in Middle Earth. Here she has what she's always wanted…a family who wants her as badly as she wants them," Elrond answered.

A content smile crossed Aragorn's face at that news. To know that Niphredil was not going to want to leave his halls was good news indeed.

"Where did you leave Niphredil?" curiously, Aragorn asked.

"I left her standing where we spoke. Is something wrong with that?" Elrond replied.

"There is nothing largely wrong with that. It is just that there are certain people I'd rather not have Niphredil meet along, if you understand me properly," Aragorn commented.

Thinking for a moment, Elrond was inclined to agree. That meeting was something that should happen under the strictest conditions, not randomly. There was a small amount of inherent danger to that. Danger that they could have avoided if not for a small oversight in their plans.


	33. Ghiaccio, Fuoco e Zii

AN: Hi all! Well, school's in full swing for me. I had my first week and everything. The only really disappointing thing is that my creative writing professor is very, very boring. He has this terrible voice that has only one pitch and stays very flat for the entire length of the THREE HOUR CLASS! I knew I should have signed up for a different professor! Oh well, I'm sure it'll be fine. I've survived worse classes (including a Chemistry professor that makes Sauron look like a kind, gentle, thoughtful fellow). I hope school's going well for everyone and that you all like your teachers/classes/classmates/other school related stuff! All of you rock for taking time out to review my story. I can't tell you how much I appreciate it. It makes typing this story up extremely worthwhile and really does make me happy. I was convinced that no one was going to ever review anything I wrote. I'm being quite serious too. All of you rock!

Ms. Unknown: Sorry for my late review of your story...school and stuff got in the way. Research for my bioethics class and the like. Anywho, I'm glad you liked my story and I hope you like this up coming chapter.

IrethAncalime3791: I know, exactly, how school is. Between my sister and I, we have like a boat load of homework. (I usually wind up helping her with her home work even though she's in college too.) I'm glad you liked the conversation. I was sort of worried it was going to sound too clichéd or corny or something. You shall see what the last part of that update means shortly. Quite soon really...

LJP: EEP! I'm sorry for the confusion. It isn't so much meeting someone as meeting up with someone again. I hope this helps to clear up. Confusion was not my intention.

Disclaimer: I own nothing except for a handful of made up characters. Tolkien thought up the concept and, as such, it belongs to him. I'm just playing in his world. I'm broke and in college. All I own are Pointe Shoes.

Niphredil followed her feet, trying to keep away from where she thought Fire might wind up. The last thing she wanted was a battle of any kind- be it words or wits- with that elven warrior. From rumors she had heard- though she'd never had an ear for gossip even in the other world- Fire was a force to be reckoned with when she was angry.

And she got angry a lot, or so she heard.

Maybe angry wasn't the right word for it. More like, annoyed. Perhaps "annoyed" was the right word for the task. After all, she had her pride, apparently, wounded by the menial task she'd been asked to do. That would annoy anyone in this world and in the other world, Niphredil concluded.

Thankfully, Ice was around to temper her sister's volatile mannerisms. The elder sister was a bastion of calm. She possessed the strange ability to say cool and collected- as her moniker indicated- under any and all stressed.

"And Fire is one huge source of stress," Niphredil mused with a slight smile.

Ice was a rare breed. Her kind was something rare to find in the other world, the Muggle World. Not just because she was an elf but because she was so calm. Tempers in the other world could flare more often as solar flares on the sun and burned nearly one hundred times brighter more often than not.

Most people in that world, especially in the state and city she lived in could take offense to something as quickly and easily as she could snap her fingers. It made for difficult dealings with others to say the least.

She'd only known one person in that world who could withstand that sort of torment with little or no retort. Maybe that had to a lot to do with the way this person was raised and the environment in which she willingly subjected herself to. Not everyone wanted to go into a place where hostile people existed.

"Actually, Emma did but that's a different story," she, mentally, corrected catching a hold of a gossamer thin thread of a thought that wafted through her head.

Emma had told her all about the people she danced with and how she knew they didn't like her being there. She made sure Niphredil understood that she didn't care about that face. She was more than willing to deal with the backstabbing, double-talk, and other mentally damaging facets of the studio just so she could do something she loved.

The other person, though, the first person she encountered with the ability to withstand such taunting was, of course, Hope. That kid was dealt a bad hand from the start- since genetics was like cards in that is was just a matter of how the genes arrayed themselves like the cards in a deck- but played with the cards she had been given. She didn't really have a choice in the matter. One can't change the way they were born.

A single situation typified the assumption she was making and knew to be true. It was a fairly recent event, fresh in her mind like what she had spoken with her grandfather about.

_**FLASHBACK**_

They were sitting around a lunchroom table, the Cadette and Senior girls of Troop 6417, trying to have a "discussion." Their largely ineffectual leader, a ditzy woman named Fran, was off bothering the Brownie leader. Her own troop had the vaguest sense why she was doing that. Her daughters, as well as the daughters of several of her friends, were in that troop. For whatever reason, she felt her time was best spent there.

Before she wandered off- for it could be called wandering more than walking- she'd given her girls an assignment. They were working on their "Conflict Resolution" patch at the moment, much to their communal surprise. After all, Fran was about as savvy to the world outside of her own little mental space as a dim bulb. Doing patches- doing anything for that matter- didn't seem like something Fran would do.

Since she had to keep them quiet and keep parents off her back, she gave them "work" to do. They were supposed to be talking about conflicts in society that needed to be resolved. A simple enough task to say the least. How much trouble could taking get them into?

A whole lot more trouble than they had bargained for!

The conversation had degenerated to the point where Jane and her gang were giving everyone their unsolicited views on the "mutant problem."

It was fair game to discuss, since it was on every television show, news program, radio show, and every other media outlet one could find, but most tended to shy away from it. No one knew where they next "evil, disease spreading, freakishly hideous," mutant was hiding, waiting to pounce on some unsuspecting person.

Little did they know, there was a mutant sitting among them. Listening to every word they spoke about her "kind." Apparently they weren't part of the human race anymore.

"They're all hideous and they spread horrible disease. One touch and you're just like them. Have to go live on the outskirts of society because you're all oozy pus and skin and stuff," someone stated, with the air of telling some kind of ghost story.

"Man. Imagine not even being wanted by your family that you have to go live on the streets," another quipped, "Not having a television to watch or new clothes."

"They should all be rounded up and kept away from us. I do hope no one at school or here are mutants. That would be horrible since we could catch what they have," yet another stated, wiping her hands on the fringe of her tan vest.

Hope, sitting next to Niphredil as she always did, seemed to be taking everything in placidly. Despite the fact they were spewing lies about mutants. The group to which Hope belonged.

Niphredil wanted to her to get mad, to rant and rail against them. To defend her people and give them a piece of her vast mind.

It wasn't to be, though.

With more logic than she could muster at the moment, Hope spoke up, "But don't they have a right to live? They're human just like you and they deserve the same natural rights. No one asked to be born with super strength or fur or anything else that would mark them as a mutant. What gives you the right to condemn them?"

All eyes fell on the tiny Cadette. Her words were about as welcome as she was in the troop most weeks. They couldn't figure out where she had gotten the right to paint a picture of a mutant as a human when they did such a wonderful job of spraying over that canvas with their own image of what a mutant was.

"Figured you'd say something like that," Jane stated, rounding on Hope, "After all you're one step above being a mutant, yourself. They're not human and they never will be. That's that."

Hope shrugged and went back to her "idle doodling" on a sheet of lined paper. Of course, it wasn't just little pictures and scribbles. It seemed to be a diagram of some kind, though Niphredil couldn't tell what kind.

"Doesn't that bother you?" Niphredil asked, as the attention Hope had garnered melted like ice in the sun.

"What?" Hope countered, "The stuff Jane and her buddies said about me?"

Niphredil nodded to which the mutant scout continued, "Not anymore. They're allowed to think what they want and say what they want. It's their opinion and everyone has one. I may not like it. I many not agree with it but I'm not going to give them the satisfaction of knowing that."

Niphredil couldn't help but laugh at that reasoning. In one way it was quite adult in nature but in others it was quite juvenile. It, simply, made good sense though. Hope could be bothered about everything they had said but she didn't want to speak on that fact. Allow them to see her cool demeanor slip.

"Plus," she added, "I don't want to lose control. Who knows what would happen then?!"

_**END FLASHBACK**_

Hope was odd like that, though. A good mix of adult and child all wrapped up in something deceptively small and powerful.

So caught up in her own memories was she that Niphredil failed to notice where her feet had taken her.

She had found her way down to one of the kitchens. At this hour, though, the wide room was deserted. Those who worked there were out at market replenishing their stores or doing whatever else they did to keep the room well stocked.

It was there she spotted Ice and Fire and a few others of their merry band. There were a good number of them- at one point Niphredil had guess upwards from twenty-five- and she couldn't properly recall all their names. With the two sisters, though, were two easily recognizable and memorable members of the band.

Dancing from foot to foot, like a little boy who could decided whether he wanted to wait on line of a carnival ride or go to the bathroom, was an odd looking elf with strange ridges in his hair. His "name," as he called it, was Mac.

Leading against a wall, chest oddly puffed out and hair tousled as if he'd just woken up from a nice long sleep, was an elf called Goose. Hs voice, a honking sort of sound, attested to why that name had been given to him. It didn't, however, explain why he looked the way he did but that was a story for another day she guessed.

They were, at the moment, gathering food from one of the shelves and placing what they could in large sacs.

"Guess, they're leaving," Niphredil mused, knowing these four, like the others members of their group, were apt to be found wandering about Middle Earth.

The exact reason for that appeared to be immensely complex and, somehow, involve her father. At best, she understood that they were "Rangers" and it was their duty to protect specific places from the evil creatures found in Middle Earth.

"My friends, my sister. See what has decided to grace us with her presence," Fire stated, calling their attention to the front of the room where Niphredil stood.

She dropped the sac she was holding and strode across the room's length, booted feet making no sound on the cobbled floor. Face to face, nose to nose with Niphredil she gave her a most sarcastic smile.

"I am glad to see the young princess has decided to grace us with her mere appearance. Tell me, have you been listening to us speak with each other?" Fire started a strong challenge in her voice.

"Fire, she is a member of the ruling family. You have no right to speak to her like that. Stand down," Ice ordered, both as Fire's sister and as someone holding a higher rank.

"Dear sister, I wish I could but I cannot. You see, while I was running an errand for the dear Lord Aragorn, this one decided to call my honor into question. I have every right to do the same to hers," the younger elven warrior informed her older counterpart.

Ice said something to her sister in a melodic sounding language. One Niphredil recognized as some form of elvish, though it was not the form she knew. It seemed to be an admonishment of sorts for Fire faltered. Albeit for only the briefest of moments.

She did not, however, feel the need to stand down.

"My princess, do tell the truth...were you listening in on our private words? Are you here to spy on us somehow?" Fire continued, her voice gaining strength and an edge of mocking seeping in somehow.

Niphredil opened her mouth to say something, to answer the as yet unspoken challenge with a verbal assault when Fire, unexpectedly, quailed.

She stepped back, retreating to a spot next to her sister and friend's.

"What seems to be the trouble, my friend?" questioned one voice, its owner on Niphredil's right.

"Has our, dear friend, Fire been causing more chaos than she is allowed?" added a second, its owner on Niphredil's left.

From left to right, Niphredil looked. A confused expression spread all over her face like an odd sort of dye. The faces on either side of her were alike, down to the smallest detail, the tinniest fleck of color in their matching eyes.

It was like looking at mirror images...not exactly but about the same idea. Two alike images.

"Who are you?" she asked, looking left to right.


	34. Siete, Io Sono

AN: Another week, another update! I had quite the adventure in Microbiology lab today. We were supposed to be staining this one slide a very bright green. It took this super complex procedure that had to be followed down to the last letter in order to get this one slide to stain. I was on one of the last steps (involving staining the slide through tissue paper with the slide steaming over boiling water for fifteen minutes) and I was taking my slide off the steam when someone banged on the table. The table shook and another slide flipped onto the table. By the time everything got sorted out, I had green dye all over my hands! My professor, thankfully, wasn't mad since accidents happen in lab but she had to comment on the fact my green hands matched the green sweater I was wearing. Anywho that was my adventure for the week and I hope all of you had great, green dye free weeks! Thank you for all the reviews! You really don't know how much I appreciate them. They're just the cure for green dyed hands and bad school days!

Mystic-realm: Well, I'm glad you liked my story! Here's the next part, fresh from my computer.

et-spiritus-sancti: First off, thank you for the compliment. Hope is one character I wasn't sure was ever going to come off as a believable character. She was more of a character created while waiting for genetics to start last semester. I'm glad you like her, though. As for the twins, are you a fan of those characters?

Elainor: Fire's not exactly the easiest character to get along with and she likes to give anyone and everyone her opinion. Let's just say she and Niphredil aren't going to be best of friends because of that. I'm happy you liked the ending. I wasn't sure it was going to work out properly.

sunni07: Oh my! I hope your wrist is alright! You're competing in a triathlon? Well, GOOD LUCK and I hope you do well. I'm glad you like the chapter, though, and I appreciate your compliment.

Ms. Unknown: Well, I'm happy you liked the ending! Here's another chapter for your reading pleasure.

IrethAncalime3791: No need to explain anything! Everyone has stuff that ties them up in the "real world." Why the twins decided to bother Fire and Niphredil will be revealed shortly. They are there, though, to get Fire to back down since she wasn't going to listen to her sister or any sort of reason.

elentir girl: I would have written more but my mother frowns upon me going to be near 4 AM on a school night...even if I'm in college. Here's the next installment!

LJP: I'm quite glad you're not confused anymore. Being confused is never any fun! I hope that everything's cleared up for you and I don't get confusing anymore.

Lindiel Eryn: Hi there! Glad to see you're back and I hope everything's well with you. I'm happy you liked the way Elrond turned out. I was really worried I wasn't going to do that character any justice when I wrote him. You are correct; she has just met her uncles. What they do or say to her will be revealed shortly. There may be some Tae Kwan Do coming up soon as well since that's not a skill, normally, found in Middle Earth.

Disclaimer: I own nothing except for a handful of made up characters. Tolkien thought up the concept and, as such, it belongs to him. I'm just playing in his world. I'm broke and in college. All I own are Pointe Shoes.

"What brings you two here," Fire snapped, her never returning as she fell into place between her sister and Mac.

That comment seemed bother Ice as she shot her sister a seething glare. Apparently, the question she had asked was not a proper on. It indicated to Niphredil that this pair had "rank" of some kind. That is, they were owed some respected. The same type of respect Niphredil, herself, was owed but rarely got from Fire.

"You should not be asking them that, Fire," Ice admonished, "They have every right to go where they want and say what they want."

"Does that include interfering with our business, my dear sister?" Fire wanted to know, adding the last part of the question with a certain amount of sarcasm in her voice.

Ice seemed at a loss for words and a look a victory crossed Fire's face. Her sister's- holder of a slightly higher rank- silence was being interpreted as a very good thing. Almost a sign of victory for the younger of the pair.

The look quickly disappeared when one of the twins- the one on Niphredil's right- stated, "It would do you well to listen to your sister, Fire. She is, most obviously, the wiser of the two of you."

"Perhaps," added the twin on Niphredil's left, "that is why she holds a higher rank?"

"I was under the impression that it was a result of Ice's maturity. You never see her leaving chaos in her wake," the twin on her right commented, a bit of dry humor in his voice.

"That is correct. You should take not of your sister's behavior, Fire. You may learn a thing or two or ten," the figure on her left added, his voice laced with blatant humor.

Fire spat something in a language Niphredil only recognized as elvish. Not the form she knew but another form of the melodic language she recalled.

From the reaction it garnered- shock on the face of Ice, resignation on the faces of Mac and Goose and the same slightly amused expression on the faces of the twins- Niphredil wasn't sure what to make of the comment at first. She took Ice's reaction as the proper one and decided that whatever was said was probably not the most well advised thing to say. If it was at all possible, Niphredil decided to was some type of sarcastic elvish response.

The twins, not letting the comment hang in the air for more than a few moments, started speaking quickly in a similar language to Fire.

This seemed to satisfy the elven warrior as she continued to speak in her language with an almost delighted tone. She had been spoiling for an argument since being asked to carry a message for Aragorn. Her anger needed to be vented and, if it couldn't be vented on the princess who had "dishonored" her, then these two were just as good a target.

Niphredil wasn't quite sure why this pair had come to her aid and was continuing to fight her battle for her. Not that she minded, really. As Fire's challenges continued to be hurled in her direction, she found herself wanting more and more to break one of Doc's cardinal rules of the martial arts. That rule being that just because one knew any form of martial arts it didn't give them permission to use it in any conflict they saw fit. It was only in situations where talking got you no where or where fighting was the only option that the use of martial arts was warranted.

As she saw it, her little "argument" with Fire fell into the former of the two categories. There was no talking her way out of the situation. It was only through physical action that she was going to be able to get Fire to stop challenging her.

It was that physical action that Niphredil was not keen on using, which was odd for her. Normally, she enjoyed putting her martial arts skills on display whether those skills be empty handed or with some type of weaponry. Here, though, where only a handful of people even knew what Tae Kwan Do was, she was loath to use her skills. A misplaced kick or an ill time pouch could result in her seriously hurting someone. That wasn't something she wanted to have on her mind.

Her eyes were only on the twin figures as they "spoke" with Fire and her sister. They were dressed in an alike manner though everything about them seemed to be alike. Even the inflection in the voices was the same. It would have been eerie and frightening to some but Niphredil found it rather interesting. She'd seen twins and triplets before but none of them were similar in such extreme ways. There were always differences and these two appeared to have none of them.

"You never answered out questions, young lady," the left side twin commented, rounding on Niphredil.

The young half-elven maiden was pleased to see that Fire was leaving. Not under her own power- Ice was nearly physically moving her- but she was leaving. Niphredil knew that she was going to have to deal with Fire and her attitude sooner or later. She was just glad it was later rather than sooner.

After all she had learned during the course of the day, a fight was the last thing she wanted.

"Our first question, of course, is irrelevant now," one twin commented, "since there seems to be no trouble now."

"Was Fire the cause of the trouble you were having though?" his mirrored image wanted to know.

Niphredil found her voice and, with a bit of hesitation, answered, "Fire took offense to something I said earlier today. I accused her of listening to a conversation I was having with....Lord Elrond and accused me of doing much the same now."

She thought for a moment before hastily adding, "I thank you for your help. I really didn't want anything to do with that situation. I'm not sure why Fire finds bothering me so much fun."

The half-elven maiden was pretty sure, nearly one hundred percent sure, that the pair hadn't heard her. They were speaking to each other in hushed tones. Their language was familiar and she caught just a few snippets of words. The general gist of the conversation, however, was lost on her.

"What did you and Lord Elrond speak about?" one twin questioned, the tone in his voice changing slightly.

No longer was he joking or being humorous in a sarcastic way. Instead, there was an edge of seriousness there, a type of concern.

Niphredil's guard came up immediately. Discussing "private" matters with anyone was still a bit of a chore. It was most definitely getting easier with family members as she grew closer to both her parents. With strangers, it was still difficult. They didn't appear to have to right to know what went on within her own, private world.

Plus, as an almost added bonus, she knew there were those in the citadel who didn't want her there. What she discussed with a high ranking elven lord would be of great interest to them. Especially the part detailing the choice she was being asked to make.

"Why do you want to know?" she snapped, "It was a personal matter."

Her response- quick and pointed as an arrow in flight- caught the pair off guard. That was not what they expected her to do or say. Though they really didn't know what to expect for they weren't sure who this female- no more than a girl really- was.

"What was said concerns both of us, my friend," the right side twin started.

The statement was finished by his mirror image who said, "since he is our father."

The connection was easily made in Niphredil's head as the puzzle pieces flew into place. That was why the twins looked like her mother- They were her brothers. - and her grandfather since these two were his sons. They were the uncles her grandfather had told her about.

From the looks of it, though, they didn't know she was related to them. Maybe they didn't even know she was the reason why their father was called to the White City. It was almost ironic in a way that they had come to her "rescue." Of all the people, it had to be family members unknown to one another.

"If he is your father, you must be my uncles," she stated, making sure not to catch the stunned expressions thrown her way.

"How is that possible?" one asked.

The other stated, "Our sister has no children, much less a slightly grown daughter."

"You can ask him yourself if you don't believe me. My name is Niphredil, daughter of Arwen and Aragorn," she responded, "I'm afraid I don't know your names, though."

Maybe they believed her. Maybe they didn't. Both looked at her skeptically, as if trying to see the lies from her eyes. Her eyes were honest, as honest as her statement. There was no lie to be had.

"I am Elladan and that is my brother Elrohir," the twin on Niphredil's right stated, his voice as confused as the look on his face.

"How are you our sister's daughter?" Elrohir asked, obviously wanting to know the truth of the matter.

Niphredil sighed and ran a hand through her hair. It seemed that explaining had become second nature to her. Not that it bothered her in any way. It was just strange because she never liked to talk about her life in the other world. It was like telling half a story...a half truth...the very thing she had left the Muggle World because of. No longer did she want the shadow of lies looming over her. She wanted the whole story, the truth.


	35. Un Pasto Esterno All'interno

AN: Another week, another update! I hope everyone's safe and everything, considering the storms that have been running amuck in Florida. Where I live, we've been getting a lot of the residual rain. I practically had to swim to dance class today, that's how much rain we got here today. Anywho, I hope school's going well for everyone and that everyone likes their teachers and stuff. I have this one professor who only shows up to one class a week. We're supposed to have her class twice a week! I guess the good side to that is I get to have lunch with my sister. Even if she gets mad when I show up and tell her I have no class. So far, though, my favorite class is Microbiology. The labs, though they leave my hands assorted colors from the dyes we use (I have purple spots on my hands this week), are a very good time. Even if I say it all the time....thank you for your reviews! They're the best and are really great to get after a rough school day. Please, keep them coming!

sunni07: Ah...the fun of Chemistry labs! I know some people who have had huge misadventures in that lab. We were trying to distill the oils from orange peels once and one of the girls in my Organic Chemistry class knocked her entire distillation device (all made out of glass tubing with rubber hoses to let water in and out) into a sink. Most of it broke and the lab guy was none to happy with having to clean it up. I think he made her pay to replace the broken glassware. Anywho, I'm glad you liked the fact the twins are in the story. I know I'm not really playing by any strict book or movie-verse but I really wanted to get them involved. They seemed like fitting characters for the story.

IrethAncalime3791: I don't think I'd mind having them as uncles either. It might be a good time! Well, I hope you like this next chapter just as much as the previous one.

Lindiel Eryn: I'm glad you liked the mental conflict thing Niphredil has about Doc's rule. She hasn't had a chance to "show off" her Tae Kwan Do skills and Fire's the type to push buttons and make her want to use those skills. She has to keep that part of her mind in check. As for her uncles, they're going to provide a slight contrast to her parents. They're going to show her the OTHER side of being royalty.

Disclaimer: I own nothing except for a handful of made up characters. Tolkien thought up the concept and, as such, it belongs to him. I'm just playing in his world. I'm broke and in college. All I own are Pointe Shoes.

Ignoring any questions or comments, Niphredil told her uncles- Was that ever a weird word for her to use in conjunction with someone since she hadn't had uncles in the Muggle World?!- the abbreviated version of her story. Well, as much as she knew and understood about her own stories. Despite gaining more information from family members and, sometimes, their friends, there were parts she didn't understand. Especially the parts involving how she had gotten to and from Middle Earth...both times.

Maybe she could reconcile Gandalf's abilities with what she saw as his status within Middle Earth. He wasn't the atypical wizard, the kind she saw in fairy tales in the Muggle World. Underneath the appearance of an old man there seemed to be a simmering power source. He wasn't what he seemed. What he was, though, she couldn't say.

It was the other wizard- this Patrick character- that baffled her. He wasn't from Middle Earth yet he had the power to go to and from Middle Earth at his wish. He'd done it at least two times, takings things from Middle Earth with him. He had to have some power but she couldn't quantify or classify it. That fact bothered her just a little since this person could be anywhere, moving things to and from this world or the Muggle World.

For whatever reason, she was afraid that Patrick was going to bring the Jones family to Middle Earth. That would have been a real tragedy; for evil people like that to spoil her new home.

"And that's how I wound up here with a new family- really a new life- and this choice hanging over my head," she wrapped up, putting a final spin on her story.

Both of the twins were strangely silent. They seemed to be processing the story in their own ways. Ways that Niphredil assumed were alike in many ways since everything else about the pair was alike.

They started to speak to each other in low musical tones; tones that were more familiar than the ones used by Ice and Fire. The rate they were speaking, though, prevented Niphredil from fully understanding their conversation. About all she understood was her own name, which she took as a good sign.

Human children, or so she had been taught, learned to recognize their names first. Since she was picking up her name in her "native" language that had to be a good sign.

"This is a very...strange turn of events," one twin- Niphredil guessed Elladan- commented, his voice sounding as baffled as he looked.

His brother, wearing a very similar baffled expression, added, "You must forgive us, Niphredil. It is just that we did not expect to meet someone like you."

For her part, Niphredil gave a low laugh. Her appearance in Middle Earth seemed to have a shocking or a baffling effect on people. She assumed it was because no one had expected their king to have a daughter who was not only born before he and his wife were formally married but was elven to boot.

"It's alright, really," she assured the pair, taking a seat on the floor and leaning against the stone wall of the kitchen, "I'm use to that reaction...seems to follow me wherever I go in this city."

The twins shared a knowing laugh and took seats on the floor as well. Elrohir pulled one of the large sacs over to him and began to search through it. His twin started to do much the same.

"Many here had never seen an elf before Legolas came through here at the end of the war. To them we are a rumored race that is rare to see and will live only in legends once we all leave these shores," Elrohir explained, placing the removed items on the floor in front of him.

"Traditions reign supreme here," Elladan continued, "even if _Estel_ is one for breaking them in his own way. It will be a long time before they would even consider you as a fit heir. The elven blood in your veins prevents you acting as your father's heir."

Niphredil wanted to ask one question but another, one she really didn't want to ask for it made her sound a bit silly, came tumbling out instead.

"Who's _Estel_?" she asked; face staining red as the liquid one of the twins was pouring out of a large flask.

"They never told you," Elladan commented, sounding a bit incredulous.

"Is it our place to tell her?" Elrohir questioned, turning to face his twin. "I would not want to be responsible for disrupting any surprise they are planning."

His brother seemed to consider the words and stated, "She has a right to know. There have been enough secrets in her life and she knows very little about our family. It would only be fair for us to tell her."

Hearing enough for the back and forth conversation, in a strange sort of stereo voice, Niphredil spoke up, "What do you want to tell me? I want to know!"

Four eyes, alike in every way, rounded on their flustered niece. Smiles spread across their faces as easily as the crimson color was spreading across Niphredil's cheeks. They liked her response, her outburst really, quite a bit. It showed a certain type of spirit or spunk the liked.

"When your father was a child, he lived as a foster child of our father's- that is, your grandfather. There were certain parties would not have wanted him to rise to throne and, as a result of this, he was given a new name. That name being _Estel_," Elrohir explained.

"So he was undercover, in a way, before him became king. Now that sounds like something out of a fairy tale from the Muggle World. Why _Estel_, though?" she commented.

The first part of her statement seemed to go over the heads of the twins but she had come to expect that response. There were very few in Middle Earth who knew about things from the Muggle World. A small minority in fact.

The latter part, however, was completely understandable to the twin male elves. That was a question they could answer.

"_Estel_, in the speech of mortals, means 'hope.' He was called that because he gave hope to the race of men," Elladan answered.

An odd look crossed over Niphredil's face. It was a mix of confusion and amusement that gave her face an odd cast. A look the twins picked up on a questioned her about.

"Why does that amuse you?" one twin requested.

"It's not my father having another name that amuses me. It seems like he's had a lot of them over his lifetime. It's just that I had this friend in the other world whose name was Hope. She was one of the few people- well, her and her family- who was nice to me," she mused, happily.

"Was she called Hope for a reason, as your father was?" Elladan asked, curiously.

"Actually, she was. Not to hide her identity or anything like that, thought. It was more a choice her parents made," Niphredil commented, settling in to tell another story.

_**FLASHBACK**_

The party was rather boring and the DJ was painful to listen to. Daisy and Brownie Girl Scouts ran the length of the gym floor, shouting at the tops of their little lungs. They may have been small but the noise the made was bigger than one thought possible.

Dressed in lurid heart spangled red pants with a matching sweatshirt, Niphredil sat and watched everything with narrow eyes. This was supposed to be some kind of Valentine's Day dance with the color red as a theme. Even the food in front of her was red- from candy hearts and peanut butter and strawberry jam sandwiches.

What is was really was a chance for the younger scouts to eat lots of candy and run wild while the older scouts looked on in dismay.

"Is this seat taken?" came a barely audible voice.

Niphredil looked over and couldn't help but laugh. Dressed in bright red jeans and, over a vivid red long sleeved t-shirt, a black shirt with the anatomical structure of the heart over it, was Hope. She carried a heaping dish of red colored things to eat, though she looked quite disinterested in all of it.

"Nope, you're free to sit here," Niphredil responded, moving her own dish over and watching the smaller scout sit.

For a moment, the pair was silent. Hope was nibbling on some bright red piece of candy while Niphredil watched the goings on around her with abject disgust. This had to have been, by and large, the worst party idea ever.

"I take it you're not having fun either," Hope stated, in a matter of fact tone.

"What was your first clue," Niphredil quipped sarcastically.

"Um...the fact you're sitting here alone. The fact you look like the next red thing you see is going to make you mad. The fact you're broadcasting your emotions so loudly every psychically powered mutant within a hundred miles can hear you," Hope listed, a laugh in her voice.

There might have been many people in the troop, between parents and other scouts and all the people involved with the scouting movement, but Niphredil was the only person to know that there was a mutant in the troop. It was only to Niphredil that Hope could make such jokes about mutants and their powers.

Niphredil gave Hope a wiry smile, a knowing smile.

"I guess I really don't want to be here," Niphredil commented, "I mean, we're not even doing anything except sitting here and staring into the walls. I hope, Hope, that this is the last party like this we ever have."

Niphredil paused, replaying her words in her head. The two "hopes" in a row- one as a name and one as a verb- sounded odd to her.

"Hey, Hope," she asked, carefully, "why did your mother name you that? Everyone says it's because she's a crazy hippie or something."

Hope made a sour looking face. She'd heard that rumor before and really didn't appreciate it. Her mother was no hippie- though there was nothing wrong with hippies. She was, nearly, like all the other mothers in the troop. Just maybe a bit younger.

"No...that's not the reason," Hope said, slowly, "its silly really but she named me Hope because my parents hoped the world was going to be better for all of us. It may not have happened yet but it just might."

Niphredil nodded, understanding what her friend was telling her. She had no such stories to tell Hope for she didn't know why she had been given her name.

"You're young," Niphredil commented, "there's still plenty of time."

"If this doesn't kill me first..." Hope stated, with a laugh, turning her attention to the party going on around them.

_**END FLASHBACK**_

So lost in her reverie was Niphredil that she failed to notice the feast set out before her. Not really a feast, just the food Ice, Fire, and their merry band were trying to take.

"What?" she asked, staring confused at the food.

"This is only going to go to waste. I think we should eat it and prevent that from happening," Elladan commented, handing her a cup of something vaguely berry colored.

"But this belongs to the kitchen's staff. Eating it just seems wrong and not very becoming of a people who are supposed to be royalty," Niphredil commented, accepting the cup anyway.

"You do not know us, then," Elrohir stated, "you have much to learn, young Niphredil, very much to learn."


	36. Una Sfida

AN: I'm apologizing profusely for not updating this on time! I had every intention of doing so until the annoying little witches in my Microbiology class opened their mouths. They convinced my professor to change our exam from Monday to Wednesday. Since I have dancing Tuesday, I would up doing all my studying after 9:30 PM. I was so brain fried that I went to bed early. Come to think of it, I'm still brain fried from the test but that's neither here nor there. I promise that'll (most likely) never happen again. Again, I apologize a million times! Anyway, I hope everyone's having a good time with school and everything related to that. Aside from me not enjoying the people I have Microbiology with, it's all cool! Please, please, please keep those reviews coming. They're the best remedy for a bad day at school. All of you are the best ever!

Mystic-realm: Many thanks for the compliment and I'm very glad you like the story. Let's just say the twins are going to try and add someone into their little trouble making schemes.

et-spiritus-sancti: Yeah, Fire's a bit of a ...moody...one. She's got a tendency to see many things as a personal issue and, since she has very little regard for people in authority (including her sister); she feels she has the express right to do and say as she pleases. She'll get put in her place eventually since, someone has to teach her a lesson or two or ten. I'm happy you're enjoying the fact the twins are in the story!

Ms. Unknown: They're formal....for now! They're still trying to figure out what makes Niphredil tick. Once they get the measure of her, all bets are off. Here's the next update!

sunni07: oh my! That's an awful lot of studying to do in one night! Even though I'm in college, the most studying I've ever had to do is like two tests in one night. Lots of stuff to study for both of them but that still seems like a small amount compared with what you had to do. I hope you did well on all of them. Anywho, I'm glad you liked the chapter and I'm sorry about the confusion thing. I'll try to clear it up.

elentir girl: I'm sorry about the chapter length but it's an evil I can't avoid sometimes. My mother really doesn't like me telling her I'm going to bed after 4AM. She gets a little cranky about it sometimes. I'll try to remedy that though!

LJP: Ah the rabbit hole! Strange place to fall down sometimes! She's going spend some "quality" time with her uncles and find out there's a little more to being "royal" then she now knows. They may finish each other's sentences...that would be funny!

Disclaimer: I own nothing except for a handful of made up characters. Tolkien thought up the concept and, as such, it belongs to him. I'm just playing in his world. I'm broke and in college. All I own are Pointe Shoes.

Niphredil, as she sat partaking in the strange make-shift picnic on the floor of the kitchen, came to a strange and startling realization. She'd done something like this- well, in a way like this but not really- and had heard about these two before today. For whatever reason it had slipped her mind.

Maybe it was everything that had happened that had caused the mental slippage. It was barely noon but the day seemed incredibly long already.

"Just another one of those days," she supposed, nibbling on something very much like Muggle World cake.

Whatever it really was, it tasted good. Considering she hadn't eaten breakfast, this was the first meal she had eaten. It wasn't until she saw the food did she realize that fact. Well that and just how hungry she was.

"You know, I think my _nana_ mentioned you teaching her how to sneak food out of kitchens," she mentioned, trying to sound like she was speaking in an off hand manner.

In actuality, she was very curious to check the validity of her mother's statement. Not that she thought she was lying. Not by any means. More like she wanted to know just how crafty these two were.

"So she does remember," Elladan commented, after pausing to swallow whatever he was eating at the moment.

A slight smile- just the startings of one really- spread across the alike faces of the twins. To Niphredil, it looked as if they were sharing a communal good memory. She didn't know if people here had that ability, like a certain few people in the Muggle World she knew.

"It is good that she does," Elrohir added, "How did you come to find out about this ability?"

"She told here, Elrohir," his twin corrected, "did you not just hear, Niphredil tell us that."

"Actually, not only did she tell me but she took me with her. We went riding one day, just the two of us, and she took me through here, taking food from behind the backs of the people who work in here," Niphredil, hastily, commented.

She wasn't keen on being responsible for the two sitting with here having some kind of fight. Unless, of course, they always acted like that. She couldn't say because she didn't know.

"Even better," Elladan stated, sounding quite pleased at that fact, "Some one needs to keep that tradition going. We would not want things here to get quiet, now would we?"

"It wouldn't be fair to, _Estel_. Things here need to be just as exciting as they were in Rivendell all those years ago," Elrohir added, his voice slightly wistful.

"What do you mean?" Niphredil asked, most obviously confused.

"We have a certain reputation- unfairly given, though- for being trouble makers when we are not riding with any guards. That is why we were with Ice and Fire today. Our _ada_ thought that would keep us out of trouble," Elrohir answered, wicked smile gracing his features.

"Those councilmen your father seems to be having a problem with will soon learn that they are bothering the wrong Lord. Under the Stewards- especially the weaker ones- they may have been able to influence decisions but not anymore," his twin added similar smile on his face.

Niphredil wasn't sure if she should be flattered or not by their actions. There were certain older members of the council who weren't keen on having her around. Something about being a stain on the king's reputation.

She'd spent enough of her life being a stain on someone's family. Now, things were different as far as she was concerned. What the council said didn't matter; her family- the one related to her by blood- was the most important thing.

These two were part of her blood related gamily too. No matter how odd it was to process that she had an extended family.

"I have to ask you two, because I guess you know her better than me, but is Fire always like that? Even Emma said she has a major attitude issue when it comes to people," Niphredil asked.

Both twins laughed loudly, a knowing sound that echoed in the vast kitchen. Apparently there was something about Fire Niphredil wasn't understanding or didn't know. Perhaps a something that gave her such a "winning" personality.

"Ice and Fire have been through a lot in their short lives. They've lost a great deal and have only now begun to gain it back," one twin started.

The other cut in, asking, "Short lives? They are younger than Arwen but that, by no means, makes their lives short. They are ancient compared to Niphredil and Emma."

Elladan, the twin who had started the discourse, gave his brother a sharp look. I appeared he didn't want his story interrupted.

"It would help to understand them if you knew their father. Ice is very much like him, although she is female," he continued, but was cut off again.

It was not his brother but Niphredil that did the interjecting.

"Does that mean Fire is like their mother? Are their names really Ice and Fire? It would be really odd if they were," she asked, looking sheepish that she had spoken as quickly and as impetuously as she had done.

Normally, she could control that reaction.

"I would not know. I do not recall ever meeting here. She was killed many years ago, most likely even before you were born," Elrohir answered, picking up for his brother who was drinking deeply from a cup, "Ice and Fire are not their given names but it is not my place to tell you those names. They are kept private for whatever reason they have for doing so."

Niphredil looked hurt for a moment. It would have been nice to put an actual name- instead of a moniker- to a face but that wasn't going to happen anytime soon.

"Is there anyway," she started, quite unsure of how to pose her question properly, "to get Fire to stop driving everyone here crazy with that attitude of hers?"

She was greeted with two very blank stares. Her Muggle World phrases seemed to have gone over the head of the two elven males.

Running a free hand through her hair, Niphredil tried, "If I wanted to get Fire to be a little nicer to me, what would I have to do?"

She didn't want to be Fire's friend; she just wanted not to feel the angry wrath of the elven warrior female. She didn't want to wind up doing something she would later regret.

The twin conferred with each other for a few moments, speaking in their melodic language. This time, though, Niphredil didn't bother trying to understand what they were saying. The food before her, again reminding her that she hadn't had anything to eat, was far more interesting.

Atypical teenage behavior, she assumed, for a normal human teen. Then it hit her like a ton of bricks.

"Not normal," she remained herself," and not human either. Well, not entirely human, anyway."

Niphredil didn't have very much time to dwell on her thoughts, though. She found herself, when she looked up from her nibbling on this and that, looking up at the faces of her twin uncles.

"There is one way, though we are sure you will not find it pleasant," Elladan started, sounding as grim as he could without being overly serious.

"Try me," Niphredil challenged, "you never know how I'm going to answer."

He looked to his brother, as if to ask him to broach the idea for him. That spoke volumes to Niphredil about what she might be asked to do.

"If you were to...challenge her...in some way, show her that you are not afraid," Elrohir answered, "she might gain some respect for you. Though we are not promising anything."

Niphredil looked confused for a moment, as if she wasn't sure what they were talking about. She knew though, all to well, what they were asking her to do. Most wanted to have a swing at the person who took Tae Kwan Do. Fulfill some half-crazy karate movie fantasy they had. Fire wanted to take her swings, verbal or otherwise, against the new person in her world. The one who was proving to be difficult to exert her personality over.

Probably the one person who posed the oddest threat to her.

She didn't want to fight Fire, not with physical fire, but it seemed she had no choice. Not if she wanted the elven female-warrior to treat her on a better level. Certainly not as an equal, for Fire felt she had no equal, but as someone worthy of her strange sort of respect.

Niphredil just wanted to show Fire she wasn't afraid of her. To show her she could rise up to the unspoken challenge she had heard in the elven warrior's voice.

"Though I'm not dressed for the task," Niphredil said pulling at her dressed with a half resigned tone in her voice, "let's do this. It'll be interesting."


	37. Uno di un Genere

An: Hiya all! It's Tuesday so it's time for another update. Actually, today in school was Tuesday-Monday. Yes, it's as weird as it sounds. Since we didn't have class Monday, today we had Monday classes even though it's Tuesday. Half my classes were empty today because people were confused. Thankfully, I managed not to get confused and get to my classes in (mostly) one piece. I hope everyone's having a good time with their classes and things of that nature. I'm having this slight issue with my Creative Writing class. We have to workshop two things we've written. That is, submit them to the class and have them critique them. The bad thing is I'm not allowed to submit anything fan fiction related. Anywho! Thanks for the reviews. They're always a shock to get and they make me feel better after my days at school. You party people are the best and keep those reviews coming!

Ms. Unknown: She's fought before, just not in Middle Earth. All her "fighting" has been contained to the Muggle World and to her Tae Kwan Do classes. This will be her first challenge in Middle Earth with a being that's lived in that world. I hope you like the "fight."

et-spiritus-sancti: Yeah, Niphredil and Fire are going to have a little altercation and it may come to a shock for everyone around. After all, princesses aren't supposed to fight with elven rangers, no matter how bad their attitudes are. If her parents were to see her fighting...well, the consequences would be interesting to say the least. Neither of them has seen her fight either. They know she can but they've never seen her fight.

IrethAncalime3791: No need to apologize! I was late updating last week. The blasted "real world" tends to get in the way sometimes. You shall soon see how this challenge is going to turn out for Niphredil and Fire as well as anyone who just happens to be watching at the moment.

sunni07: Chemistry can be tricky, especially the inorganic variety. Everything seems to be the same thing and ever answer seems right. It's a devilishly tricky subject, really. The best you can do, where Chemistry's concerned, is to try your best. Anywho, Fire and Ice aren't characters from the books at all. Fire's based on my younger sister and Ice is just her opposite character. As for their given names, Ice's is Litsetaure and Fire's given name is Marille. I'm glad you liked the chapter and that you're not confused anymore.

Midnight-Insomniac1532: WOW! Good timing! I got your review just as I was writing this chapter! Oh my! I hope everything's better now because that doesn't sound like a good time at all. It's alright, really. The "real world" seems to try its darndest to throw challenges at everyone, even when they don't want them. As for your former boss, it's always fun to put people like that in stories and have them meet...interesting...ends. Here's the confrontation between Niphredil and Fire...fresh of my computer!

Disclaimer: I own nothing except for a handful of made up characters. Tolkien thought up the concept and, as such, it belongs to him. I'm just playing in his world. I'm broke and in college. All I own are Pointe Shoes.

"You are willing to do fight Fire?" Elladan asked his tone slightly incredulous.

"Dressed as you are?" Elrohir added his tone quite similar to his brother's.

They had posed the idea only as a suggestion, not expecting Niphredil to actually take them up on it. It spoke volumes about her bravery or insanity. Both admirable qualities, in their humble opinions, though not something they wanted to deal with now.

The last thing they needed was to admit to their father they had gotten his granddaughter hurt.

Of course, that thought was overridden by their innate curiosity about her strange skills- skills she had mentioned in passing when she explained who and what she was to them- and a need to see if those skills could match the fighting style of the elves. Plus, there was the added bonus of Fire being knocked down a few peg holes if Niphredil were to successfully show her up.

They still had to make sure she wanted to do this. That they weren't exerting a force over her and making her do this; undertake this challenge.

"Yes, I'm very willing to fight Fire. I'm not scared of her at all. She might be all talk like some of the people who use to come into class, stay awhile, and leave but I seriously doubt that. And, yes, I'll fight her in a dress. This shouldn't restrict my range of motion too much," Niphredil stated, her voice not exactly unsure but not wholly sure either.

Fire didn't seem to be all talk, as she had told her uncles. She looked to have the ability to back her words up with physical force. If she was a warrior of some type, she was also versed in the use of weapons. A wide range of them. Probably more than Niphredil knew how to use. She was best versed in the use of the sword and that was only in Tae Kwan Do style. A style she figured was very impractical in a fight with someone like Fire.

Seeing the perplexed looks on her uncle's alike faces, Niphredil added, "I'm serious. I'll be fine. Just take me to her."

Even with the resignations they were harboring, Elladan and Elrohir took Niphredil through the labyrinthine passageways of the citadel. Through side doors and back tunnels they took her, turning her around so badly that she feared she was never going to see the light of day again.

Maybe not the light of day. More like her room and her parents. Especially if her two guides decided it would be amusing to leave her stranded in the passages.

Much to Niphredil's relief, they didn't. She blinked a few times as the trio emerged into a sun drenched courtyard. She knew she was in part of the citadel she'd never see before- the gardens around her were very much unfamiliar- though she knew she was on the same level as her home. Counting the rings of the city below here attested to that fact.

A clanging sound, the familiar clash of metal on metal, split the air combining with the yelling and cheering of an obviously excited crowd.

"We must have come at a good time," Elladan commented, seeming to follow the sounds riding high on the air.

"Perhaps," Elrohir added, "but if she is already eager for confrontation. It may not turn out as well as it could."

"They're training?" Niphredil asked, interjecting herself into the conversation.

No matter how interesting it was to watch her uncles banter back and forth between each other- Seemingly riding the same train of though and picking up on hanging bits of conversation the other left. - Niphredil wanted to know what was going. It was important, essential even, given what she was planning on doing. To have full knowledge of what she was walking into was important, like studying before a big exam. No one- Well, one in their right mind anyway. - walked into to take a final, especially ones like math and science, without studying before hand.

In Niphredil's mind, this situation was sort of similar. It's just that she didn't have a week's knowledge to study for her "test."

"Yes, they are. That is the noise we are hearing," Elrohir answered, "they need to keep their skills as sharp as possible."

"What for?" Niphredil asked.

Middle Earth seemed a safe enough place. Roving warriors, as she assumed Ice, Fire and the rest of their merry band were, looked to her like left over antiquities from some by-gone age.

"To keep prepared for any threat," Elladan stated, answering in his brother's stead, "Though this city seems safe enough to you, Niphredil, there are still many threats that lay beyond those gates. Ice, Fire, and the rest of their band keep those threats at bay when, and if, they encounter them."

Niphredil nodded, lapsing into silence. She was processing all the information she had just acquired, trying to see how best she could use it. They were skilled warriors with many more hours, days, lifetimes of practice under their belts then she had. There was sill the all important element of surprise. That she still possessed for her skills were something unheard of, unseen in Middle Earth.

There was a small knot of figures, all elvish by the looks of it, arranged in a vaguely circular shape. They were dressed in drab colors, browns, greens, and grays.

"Forest colors," Niphredil decided, "something like Middle Earth camouflage."

She bit back a laugh at that thought. What she had learned was camouflage was something very different and looked nothing like that these figures were wearing. In her opinion, their clothing, their mode of dress, was much nicer and more earthly. Somehow more appropriate for what they did.

The twins insinuated themselves in the circle, standing on either side of a tallish elf with ancient looking, dark eyes and cropped short- shorter than any elf she'd had occasion to see- dark hair.

Elladan, seeing that Niphredil was standing back from the gathered group, turned and stated, "Come, you may find this very interesting and very much to your liking."

He offered her a hand, which she gladly took, and pulled her into the circle. Standing in between her uncle and the ancient looking elf, Niphredil's eyes went wide as saucers.

With swords in hand, were two other figures, neither recognizable to her. The taller of the pair, currently on offensive, was clad in mostly browns and greens. His muddy colored hair brushed his shoulders as he moved. The other pair was smaller an gave the impression of being younger- even if Niphredil knew better than to trust that impression. Apparently, elves didn't age in any ways she understood. He wore all gray and had a shock of nearly snow colored hair. At the moment, he was defending himself against the taller one's attacks.

They moved like nothing Niphredil had ever seen, twisting, turning, flowing in a way she couldn't imagine ever being possible. Sure as anything, she couldn't do what they were doing. It was like poetry in motion to her, something alive in its own right and quite powerful.

More than anything she wanted to get involved in some way. She hadn't realized how much she missed her Tae Kwan Do lessons, with their familiar forms and spars, until now. This was dredging up those feelings as she watched the pair of elves spar with each other.

Their spar, insofar as Niphredil could define their actions, ended in a rather abrupt, surprising manner. The taller elf, thinking his smaller opponent was beaten, went to mock a killing shot. The smaller, moving like a blur caught the taller by surprise, warding off the shot and knocking the taller off balance. The taller went down in a heap.

"Admirable try, Spike," the ancient looking elf commented, eyes moving towards the taller elf being helped by the smaller to his feet, "It will do you well not to underestimate Bass again. He may be young but he does have some skill."

The smaller, Bass Niphredil guessed, looked away but answered, "I still have very much to learn, Captain. I am just a beginner to this."

Captain, the ancient elf standing next to Niphredil, shook his head and called, "Is there no one else who wishes to take part today?"

For a handful of moments, no one moved or spoke. They were sizing each other up, looking for who would provide the greatest challenge. Many of them threw questioning glances at the princess standing with among their numbers. Her being there was highly unusual to say the least.

Fire, between her sister and an elf known as Mac, spotted the princess. She moved toward the center of the circle, ignoring her sister's protests. Ice knew full well what her younger sister was going to do and knew she had no way to control her. True enough Fire was a loyal warrior but her hot headed nature got in the way nearly all the time.

"I see we are being joined by the little princess," she called, taking her place at the center of the ring, "we should all feel honored, I deem."

Fire bowed a mocking motion really, in Niphredil's general direction.

That done, she continued, "One must wonder if the little princess is just here to watch. Does she have nerve enough to challenge in the sword ring? I highly doubt it."

"Fire," Captain admonished, "You have not the rank to challenge someone from the ruling family. We are here to defend them, not to harm them."

Fire didn't seem to hear Captain or, is she did, she was actively choosing to ignore him. Her honor had been infringed upon twice, or so she perceived. This was the best and only way she could see to reclaim that loss, to heal that hurt.

"I challenge Princess Niphredil," she stated, drawing a sword from her side, "If she does not accept my challenge, she has no honor and I will tell her father that fact."

"My lady," Captain said, "you do not have to do this. Fire is just angry and is speaking without thinking. I will tell your father that."

"Sir, I am here to challenge Fire. I would not want my family's honor disgraced because I wasn't strong enough to take a challenge. Don't worry; I know what I'm doing. I just need to be armed," Niphredil assured Captain, trying to ignore the worried look in the ancient elf's eyes.

Fire was angry, seething with rage. She appeared to be willing to hurt the Niphredil if she could but Niphredil knew she couldn't turn back, turn away from this challenge. It was her test, after all.

"Are you sure, my lady?" Captain asked, his voice concerned.

"Sir, I am sure. I've trained in the other world for these sorts of things," Niphredil replied, "I just require a sword."

For a moment, she lamented the fact her own weapon brought with her from the Muggle World was stowed away in her room. Nothing she could do about it now. She was just going to have to use what they supplied her with and do her best with that.

"Bass, give Princess Niphredil your sword," Captain ordered the male elf a few paces over, "I know you favor a lighter blade."

Blade passed over, Niphredil found herself standing face to face, nose to nose with Fire.

The weapon felt odd in her hands, not as comfortable as the ones she had used back in the Muggle World. It was light enough for her to swing without being thrown off balance but the odd curve in the blade puzzled her, slightly. It seemed to cut the air improperly because of the curve. She felt her hands slip along the grip as she took a few experimental swings with the blade. She was going to have to compensate for that somehow. It would do her no good to have the weapon slip out of her grasp in the course of events.

"Now that you have had all the pomp and splendor you feel you are due, are you prepared, little girl?" Fire asked, staring down Niphredil.

As strange as the blade felt in her hands, Niphredil had to admit there was something very comfortable about having a weapon in her hands. It seemed like a lifetime ago that she and Sid had sparred with swords and fists and feet in their presentation for Doc. It was a feeling she missed, one of the few things about the other world she missed.

This though was helping her greatly. In a world where everything was new and strange, this was a familiar constant. Something well within her comfort zone.

"I'm more prepared then you know," Niphredil responded, her voice calm and even, "Let's dance you and I."

Falling back on her marital arts training, Niphredil briefly saluted Fire with her blade. It was a respectful motion, one Niphredil was pretty sure she didn't have to give to Fire. It was inbred in her, part of her training. Before each spar, they'd have to bow to each other. Show each other a sign of respect, trust, and honor.

Even if Fire was a nasty, mean elven warrior-female, she was still owed some respect.

Fire, feeling as if she owed Niphredil nothing, assumed her stance, preparing to strike first if need be.

It was Niphredil, trying to get, keep, and use the element of surprise, who struck first. She was in her zone, Tae Kwan Do training coming to the fore of her mind.

She was moving to invisible beat, music only she could hear. She moved, twisting and turning like some sort of odd whirlwind. The fact the weapon in her hands wasn't hers didn't seem to matter. It moved like an extension of her arm. It's motions seemed almost human, not all cold metal and things of that nature. There was a natural fluidity to everything.

The fact Fire was a better trained, older elf faded from her mind. She was just another opponent in a competition. Someone she was competing with to win a trophy and a bit more respect from her peers.

It seemed her actions, the alien nature of her fighting style, caught Fire off guard. The elf's strategy was thrown, but only for a brief time.

Fire responded, going on the offensive. Trained by both elven and human hands, she sent the young half elven maiden reeling away from her. A satisfied smile crept over her face as she tried to prove her point.

Surviving the War of the Ring was no small feat. It had taken every ounce of training she had. It was all that training and experience Fire was using against Niphredil.

It was the crafty veteran, versus the young upstart. In this case, the two were locked in a battle over honor instead of prestige.

Knowing that she could no longer ride the wave of surprise she had come in on, Niphredil had to think on her feet. She was improvising now, darting here and there, trying to get under Fire's guard and take her off her feet.

She wasn't out to hurt the elven ranger. No, no, no. That was no her aim. She was only aiming to prove a point and to prevent her from brining any shame to her family's name.

Fire was too smart, though, to experience, to crafty to fall for any of her tricks. She'd seen them before in one form or another. Everything Niphredil was bringing to Fire seemed to be repelled like alike ends of a magnet repelled each other.

The loud ring of swords, caught in the fevered pitch of battle, rang through the air, catching the attention of those working in and around the training area.

Time and space forgotten, Niphredil felt she was moving in slow motion. She could almost see the ripples the pair of blades were making in the air, hear them cutting through the atmosphere as clear as a bell.

Her motions, too, seemed to be slowed. She was moving quickly, she knew that because she was still standing, but she couldn't feel that speed.

It was very much like trying to do forms in a swimming pool. The water provided a great deal of resistance, making moving quickly impossible. Everything had to be done slowly and with exacting precision.

Back and forth and back again, the pair went. Neither wanted to conceded defeat, give victory to the other.

All pretenses abandoned, Fire was coming at Niphredil with full force. She swung her blade in wide arcs, acting as if she didn't care if she injured the princess. Though, in the heat of battle, Fire was prone to using dirty tricks like hair pulling and eye gouging, she had not done anything like that yet.

That edge, the tiny space between fighting with honor and resorting to dirty tricks was coming close though. She was string to grow angry- angrier- with Niphredil. This was not what she had expected...the princess was putting up a half descent fight. She wasn't going down as easily as expected.

Niphredil, glad for her training, was beginning to wonder if Fire was ever going to tire. It was clear that anything she did, everything she did, was going to be countered by the older elven warrior. Unless, by some twist of fate something happened, Niphredil was beginning to worry that she wasn't going to be able to defeat Fire.

Fire, in Niphredil's very busy at the moment mind, was completely able to back her words up with actions. She was more then just big talk and angry words. There were actions she could take to back those words up.

It did bolster Niphredil's spirits that her more Tae Kwan Do based flurries of action were able to unnerve Fire and send her back on defense. If she were to, somehow, be able to link a few of those flurries together...well, then, she could do something.

They're spar, their obtuse dance, seemed to go on for quite sometime. It could have been days or weeks or, even, months that they wove in and out, trying to break through each other's guards.

The eyes of the gathered crowd all widened slightly when that break finally happened. Niphredil, who had been flitting here and there in a vain attempt to distract Fire, twisted out of the way of one of Fire's rushes and, with a leg sweep that was more martial arts then anything else, brought Fire down to the ground.

"Does that mean I can keep my family's honor?" Niphredil questioned, realizing just how taxing that battle was on her.

Now that the "rush" was ebbing away, she could feel the exhaustion creeping into her limbs and meandering its way through her body. Though it seemed to her that elves couldn't get tired, the human part of her could, would, and did. She was also very thirsty but she couldn't say from which side that originated be it human or elf.

Fire simply glared for a moment, at a plain loss for words. This result was unexpected and unfortunate.

"You can keep your honor, Niphredil," she conceded, "you fought bravely and did well. That does not, however, mean I will be your friend."

"I wasn't looking for friends, Fire," Niphredil retorted, "just respect. Which I hope I earned."


	38. L'Osservazione

AN: Hi all! How's everyone doing? I'm doing well, getting ready for the GREs (a test to get into Graduate's School) and preparing for my Girl Scout Troop's Halloween Carnival. Since I'm a leader of a younger kid troop, I'm obligated to wear a costume. I'm going to dress up as a Matrixy-Cyberpunky type character loosely based on the character Trinity from _The Matrix_ movies. About the only reason I'm dressing up as that is because I have a lot (and I really mean a lot) of black clothing from my dance classes since we're supposed to wear black dance gear (dance pants, body suits, and tights). That way I don't have to buy too much of my costume! I hope, if you're dressing up for Halloween, you're going as something cool! As I always say- and I don't care how cliché it sounds- thank you all for your reviews! They mean so much to me! I greatly appreciate them in every way, shape, and form!

sunni07: I'm glad you liked Niphredil's little spar with Fire. I'm pretty darn sure all Chemistry teachers are evil. I know the one I had in college was quite demonic. She played favorites in the worst ways! Don't feel bad; I don't talk all that much in class either. I tend to sit quietly, take my notes, and do what I'm told. Well, I hope the rest of my chapters are just as good as the last!

IrethAncalime3791: Fire might learn something from that spar or, just as easily, she may get just a bit grumpier. I hope I didn't make you too nervous while you read that chapter. I was just having a bit of fun while I was writing it. I've been looking for an excuse to write a fight scene someplace. I will try my best to keep my work up.

Ms. Unknown: Don't worry! Everything turned out well for Niphredil in the end. As for Ice, she's quite different from her very loud little sister and, despite the name; she may become Niphredil's friend.

Lindiel Eryn: Fire and Ice have their own story I'm working on. They are, indeed, part of my ever connecting little world of Lord of the Rings stories. Their entire history- including why Fire's so hostile- is in that story. I'm glad you liked that last line. It was really late when I finished that chapter and I wasn't sure if it sounded alright. I figured Niphredil just wants to earn the respect of those around her since she experienced a great deal of disrespect in the other world. If she makes friends in the process, well, she's alright with that too.

LJP: Her decision is coming up shortly. I figured she needed to vent whatever emotions she was feeling at the moment in something familiar. About all that exists in Middle Earth is sword fighting, though, not the type she's use to. Her need to make that fateful decision is still there, though, just on the backburner for the moment.

JC-Puzzler: Oh my! I, honestly, feel honored by what you wrote. I was convinced that no one would ever read/review anything I posted. It comes as a shock to me that people actually do. I'm glad you liked this chapter and I hope you continue to enjoy the ones I post for both stories (I'm going to try to update the other one sometime this week). Again, many thanks for your review! I really am awed by what you wrote.

elentir girl: I'm glad you liked the chapter and the song. The song is the entrance music used by one of my favorite WWE wrestlers: Rob Van Dam. He's so wicked fun to watch wrestle and the song's pretty cool too.

et-spiritus-sancti: Just keep an eye on those twins for me! Let's just say they're not going to know what to make of Niphredil since she's not exactly what they expect. As for the rest of her family, her…abilities…are going to come as a bit of a shock. Just because it's not something normally seen in Middle Earth.

Disclaimer: I own nothing except for a handful of made up characters. Tolkien thought up the concept and, as such, it belongs to him. I'm just playing in his world. I'm broke and in college. All I own are Pointe Shoes.

Much to her surprise, word of her little spar with Fire did not make it into the day-to-day, discussion of events throughout the citadel. Maybe it had and Niphredil hadn't noticed. She'd been very busy trying to decide what she wanted to do about her grandfather's offer. Now that she wasn't distracted by new family members and battles with the likes of Fire, that decision started to weigh heavily on her mind.

There hadn't been much, either way, for her to decide. How was she supposed to make this decision in the first place? Was she supposed to receive a sign or, perhaps, some kind of divine insight? Was there some sort of Oracle she was supposed to speak to in order to get an answer?

She just didn't know and, as such, wasn't too thrilled with the choices set before her. It was like being asking to pick the lesser of two evils but without the evil part.

Being human had its good and bad points. If she was human, she would be more like her parents and more readily accepted, she supposed, into the fabric the city was woven out of. Of course, there was always the negative aspects of getting sick and, eventually, dying. Though she would have a longer lifespan which had its own set of positives and negatives. That was something she wasn't keen on considering at the moment. For now, the broad category would have to suffice.

As for being an elf- a mythical creature that she had disregarded as pure fantasy in the Muggle World- with its immortality and seemingly immunity to all ills, save sorrow, was her other option. That was a can of worms, so to speak, that she wasn't quite sure she could deal with. One thing she did know, however, was that if she were to choose the immortal life of an elf, it would make her different from her parents and the city's population.

She'd been different from those around her for most of her life and Niphredil was quite aware what sort of reaction that brought upon her.

Of course, she wanted to take into account her parent's feelings. Her heart and gut said they wouldn't care what decision she had made. They would accept her no matter what, as they had since she came to Middle Earth.

Her head, though, was being quite contrary and telling her otherwise. It kept forcing her to recall memories of her time in the Muggle World. It wanted her to think that, if she were to make herself different from her family, they would no longer want her to live with them. She figured it wouldn't be so bad if they shipped her off to live with her grandfather or this mysterious great-grandmother they spoke about. That was not her preference, though, as she liked living with her blood parents.

At the moment, though, Niphredil was outside of the citadel in a smallish side courtyard she had discovered during one of her travels through the castle. Alone she stood, dressed in a loose fitting tunic and pants belted around the waist. It was the best she could do to approximate her old karate uniform. Resting on the ground, sheathed in the near by shade, was the sword Doc had given her what seemed like a lifetime ago.

She was trying to clear her mind by doing something familiar. That is, by doing forms, slowly, outside in nature. Doc had always said that was the best form of mental relaxation he could think of. Niphredil, for the longest time, had been disinclined to agree with her instructor- one of the few times she did.

Now, though, she saw what he meant. She stood, loose and ready like a cat about to spring. Cats never looked tense until they were just about to pounce and that was how she was feeling at the moment. Her mind was clear, free from the constraints placed on it by the decision she was being asked to make or by anything else in Middle Earth.

It was just her and nature around her, giving her energy in many ways other than by virtue of the oxygen they provided, doing motions that were so practiced and familiar that she didn't really need to spare a thought to do them. An ideal situation given what was wreaking havoc with her mind.

Little did Niphredil know that her practice spot was easily visible from a council chamber within the citadel. What's more, she couldn't have known that the room had been purposefully chosen for the day's meetings by her father.

"You tell me that Fire's complaint is not as valid as she claims?" Aragorn inquired, speaking to his twin "brothers."

"Over look Fire's complaints, _Estel_, they are not of importance now. You should have been there to see Niphredil," Elladan answered, coming over to stand with Aragorn at the window.

Though he was speaking directly to Elrond's twin sons, he was staring out the window. Whatever his daughter was doing, the actions she was taking, he found them to be very interesting. She was lost in her own little world, totally apart from the bustling city around her.

"I am not sure what you mean, my brother," Aragon admitted, sounding sheepish.

Fire, naught but a few hours after her fight with Niphredil, had stormed into Aragorn's study demanding a few words with him. He complied, really only to get Fire to leave him along. The last thing he needed, compounding everything else he had in front of him at the moment, was an angry Fire stewing in his office.

She informed him of what had taken place, of the verbal "attack" Elrond's sons had used against her and of the physical one his daughter had perpetrated against her. Fire demanded- of a king no less- something be done in order to repair her family's honor.

Ice, who had tailed her younger sister to Aragorn's study trying to prevent her from doing any more damage, simply told the Aragorn that Fire had issued the challenge and, admirably, Niphredil had risen to the challenge. Wearing a dress and with a borrowed blade, she soundly defeated Fire. There was no dishonor in that action. As a matter of fact, it showed that the very young half-elven maiden had a great deal of character.

It was for that reason; Aragorn had not mentioned his judgment on her actions to Niphredil yet. He needed more information and the only two who could provide it were his elder twin "brothers." Only after this could he say anything about what his daughter had done.

"She fights in a style very much unknown here but that style seems to have been adapted, somehow, to fit her elvish form," Elrohir added, getting up to join the pair.

Aragorn had heard, from several sources with Emma being oddly the most knowledgeable of them that his daughter possessed certain skills that would never be found in Middle Earth. According to the Mirkwood princess, his daughter trained in something called Martial Arts, specifically a branch of it known as Tae Kwan Do and that Niphredil held a high rank in that activity.

It all sounded very strange and foreign to Aragorn but it seemed to make perfect sense to Emma. By proxy, it must have made sense to Niphredil as well. It was her activity of choice- much in the same way dancing was Emma's activity of choice- and, as such, it would have to make sense to her.

Talking in turn and filling in each other's sentences as they enjoyed doing, the twins proceeded to give Aragorn a complete description of what had taken place in the fight. They were able to capture all the senses of their mortal "brother" using storytelling skills they appeared to have inherited from their father. Every small motion they told Niphredil's father about, every blow, thrust, and block was given full attention.

After expressing what their niece had gone through, Elladan and Elrohir could see how she had complained about being tired. It all seemed very exhausting to the elven twins.

"I wish I could have seen it. She is quite unlike anything I could ever fathom as being my child," Aragorn stated, plainly amazed, "I can not think of words to even properly describe her personality. I think that suits her in a way, though, since there is still so much we don't know about her. There is still much mystery surrounding her."

"You know what _ada_ always said about that," Elladan commented, dry humor in his voice.

Niphredil had abandoned her forms and had picked up her sword. She returned to her slow, almost syrup like motions, this time with weapon in hand. The same far away expression was on her face as she moved, her mind separated from her body in a way only she understood clearly.

"_Ada_ said a great many things, my brothers, please refresh my memory on his words," Aragorn retorted, eyes glancing through the window, watching whatever his daughter was doing.

The twins shared a common glance, the look in their eyes belaying the information they were about to share.

"He always said, 'You do not truly know someone until you fight them.' If you want to get to know more about your daughter, _Estel_," Elrohir started his vice slightly joking.

"I suggest you pay her a visit down in that courtyard and challenge her," Elladan finished, the same sort of tone in his voice and a matching smile on his face.

"But I haven't the time," Aragorn stammered, wanting more than anything else to go down there and learn about Niphredil in a way they shared.

The commonality the two of them had. The something special they shared that no one else could truly understand. Their warrior nature.

"Make time, _Estel_, make time," Elrohir stated.

"There is no time like the present, my brother. Forget what you have to do and go down there. Unless the title of king takes presence over the title of father or _ada_ or any other name she chooses for you," Elladan challenged, giving his brother a knowing wink.

That did it for Aragorn. It was the straw that broke the preverbal camel's back.

Challenge his authority as High King of Gondor and he would react with vehement claims to the throne. He could claim ancient bloodlines and quote verbatim what he had been taught as a child under the care of Lord Elrond. If it was a physical challenge, sure as the sun rose, he would face it.

Challenge his place as Niphredil's father and he could only do what was asked of him. There was no other way for him to prove what was important.

Plus, truth be told, he knew he would have much rather spend time with his wife and daughter than with the grating members of the council.

"I think I shall pay Niphredil a visit," he commented, starting to stride away from the window, "It is high time she and I get to know one another properly."

(AN: I borrowed the like "You do not truly know someone until you fight them" from the movie The Matrix Reloaded. One of my very favorite characters- a male character named Seraph- says it to Neo just after they spar in Seraph's Tea House. It's just one of my favorite lines said by one of my favorite characters, after one of my favorite scenes.)


	39. Allineare Non Sapete

AN: I'M SO SORRY! I was really trying to avoid posting late again but, alas, Midterms decided to rear their ugly heads. I wound up with two tests today plus a story I had to finish for my creative writing class. I didn't finish my creative writing story (it's about a baseball player and sort of based on this story I wrote) until like 2:30AM. My mom was yelling about me going to bed because I had midterms in two classes (Religion, Society, and Culture and Human Reproduction) and I was like mentally dead from the combination of studying/creative writing. I'm, mostly, better today (had a bit of a rough spot in microbiology involving my class, a test next week, and a bunch of threats) and I'm mentally alive again! Anywho, and as always, thank you for the reviews. I really, and truly, appreciate your reviews. They're the best and you lot are the best! OH and CONGRATS TO THE BOSTON RED SOX 2OO4 WORLD SERIES CHAMPS!

Mystic-realm: I'm glad you liked the chapter and I hope you like this next one! Hopefully, I can make this sound just as good as when Niphredil and Fire sparred.

Lindiel Eryn: It's an interesting mental image to say the least and I'm glad you had fun imagining it. Emma's mom actually comes into play in the sort of-semi-kind of like- a sequel to this story. She's just in this story acting as Emma's guardian and, in a way, to keep her out of Thranduil's hair (since the two of them are by no means on friendly terms). Her role, and her purpose, will be expanded in the next story.

sunni07: WOW! I'm glad you were having such a good day! It really rocks like a box of socks when all those good things happen in one day. Those kinds of days are the best. I've had a few of them in the past few weeks....I'm waiting on my post-midterm one now. It's always a really wicked day when those tests are over. Anyway, I'm glad you liked the chapter and I do hope you enjoy the next one too!

Elainor: Wait no longer! They're going to spar very, very soon!

Lindele: Tough my update is a bit late (blasted midterms!), here it is now! I'm happy you liked the story and I thank you for the review.

Levaire: I'm happy you liked their little backwards reverse psychology to get Aragorn motivated. Here's my next update, albeit a little late.

IrethAncalime3791: Here's the next part...a little father/daughter bonding time. Well, bonding time with weapons and fighting skills. Still quality time, I guess!

Ms. Unknown: You! Time for some father/daughter quality time...with weapons and stuff but it's still the two of them.

Elven Script: I'm glad you liked the story! Here's the next part!

Disclaimer: I own nothing except for a handful of made up characters. Tolkien thought up the concept and, as such, it belongs to him. I'm just playing in his world. I'm broke and in college. All I own are Pointe Shoes.

Just a quick detour to change clothing, for his kingly garb was not conducive to sword work when he wanted to practice, and Aragorn found his way into the gardens. He paused, standing in a doorway, just watching Niphredil.

She was standing still working with her sword. Her expression was far away, transcending time and place. She was safe in her own little world where it was just her, her weapon, and whatever motion she happened to be doing at the time. To him, Niphredil seemed oddly peaceful, despite the fact her motions were geared toward something not very peaceful.

Aragorn almost felt bad interrupting her. He didn't want to break the silent spell that was binding Niphredil to her motions. The spell that held her concentration firmly in its grasp and wasn't keen on letting it go.

Unless, of course, she was distracted by someone or something outside her own little world. That seemed to be they only way to break the spell upon her. At least, that's what Aragorn thought.

He took a few more steps into the garden, masking his footfalls with ranger practiced skills. Though his skills didn't make his steps invisible to elven sensitive ears. They were keen enough to pick up the softest of shoeless footfalls and his boots were by no means that soft.

Niphredil, though caught up in her own moves, heard the sounds as clear as a bell. She chose to ignore it...for now. If it came any closer then she'd do something.

And closer it came.

Niphredil swung around, two handed grip on her Muggle World blade, and made to attack whatever was heading for her. She pulled out of the attack a moment before the blow would have struck its intended target. Once she saw who was walking towards her, that is.

"I'm so sorry, father," she, hastily, stated as she stood down with her sword at her side, "I didn't know it was you."

She felt her fact flush a bright red, embarrassed by her own actions. Internally she was yelling at herself for not being more careful. She could have seriously hurt her father who just happened to be the ruler of this kingdom. That would have really earned her brownie points, she decided, causing harm to the ruler who had brought peace and prosperity to their lands.

"Quite alright, Niphredil. I should have alerted you to my being here. It was not wise of me to sneak up on an obviously skilled, armed person such as yourself," Aragorn assured his daughter, closing the distance between them; "It was my fault."

Puzzled, Niphredil retorted, "I still should have been paying attention. Doc would have been most displeased with me. Being irresponsible like that. I should have been paying closer attention."

Aragorn gave Niphredil a half warning glance. He didn't like her way of thinking, of the fact she was trying to take the blame all on herself.

"We were both at fault and let us leave it at that," Aragorn stated, his tone slightly final.

Niphredil nodded her acceptance of that idea, really not liking taking all the blame herself. That was not usually in her nature to do. At that moment, though, it felt wrong somehow to place the blame on a parent. Weren't they supposed to be blameless or something? She really didn't know, never having parents to take a model from.

She walked over to where the sheath for her sword lay, preparing to put the weapon away. Her father's appearance made her assume she was wanted back inside for some odd reason. Maybe there was someone else she was supposed to meet or, possibly and if this was true much to her great sadness, she was being called out on account of the fight she had with Fire.

"Niphredil, if I was you, I would not do that," Aragorn called, watching as his daughter's head snapped up to regarding her father, "unless you are keen on testing your skills at a disadvantage."

An oddly bemused expression crossed Niphredil's face. She had heard what her father had said but seemed not to be understanding it. The words couldn't mean what she thought they meant. He couldn't have been hinting at what he was hinting at. There was just no way and, what's more, was that even legal to do?!

"Do you mean what I think you mean?" she asked, her tone seeming to stem from her expression.

She sounded just as baffled as she looked. That fact bringing a smile to her father's face. It was a stark reminder just how young she actually was. That fact tended to get lost someplace because, in human years, she was headed for adulthood. In elven years, she was still very much a child. That was the age she seemed to express best when she as confused or frightened.

"If you believe I mean that I wish to cross swords with my daughter, then yes that is what I mean," Aragorn answered.

Niphredil's expression brightened considerable. The idea of sparring her father- crossing blades with him- seemed exciting to her. Exciting in much the same was spring with Fire was exciting. To test her skills against the skills of someone else with an inherently different style was something she'd never back down from doing.

It wasn't in her nature not to accept a challenge. Plus, if she was going to be entirely honest, it meant some one on one time with her father. There's been an expression back in the Muggle World someone had once quoted about learning about someone through fighting but she was finding the exact words hard to pinpoint now.

"I'd be more than happy to cross swords with you, father," Niphredil admitted, giving her father what learned was a salute with her blade.

Best to show respect and all, especially since he was both her parent and her king. He was probably owed more respect than Fire, anyway.

"Actually, Niphredil, I would first like to get a feel for your style unarmed. We can move on to swords later," he suggested.

Niphredil though for a moment, measuring the meaning in her father's words. They made logical sense since she hadn't a feel for his methods of fighting and he, logically, didn't have a sense of her style. Actually, very few people did but that we neither here nor there.

"That's a good idea," she commented, placing her sword on the ground and trying to sound casual.

Niphredil watched as her father laid down his weapon, cracking his knuckles and wrists before approaching her. Though they seemed mismatched, he being the larger and most obviously stronger of the two and she being a small child, Niphredil wore the same determined look as her father. He wasn't going to get the better of her...that she was sure of.

For a moment, the two just circled each other, looking for someplace to "attack."

Niphredil, thinking this was just like the sparring matches she use to have with Doc way back when, struck first, trying to tag her father with a flurry of stiff, straight kicks. Aragorn was the stronger of the pair, carefully rebuffing his obviously eager daughter.

For a time they danced, both testing their skills against each other. Though, for his part, Aragorn was holding back. The last thing he wanted or needed to do was hurt his own daughter. This was supposed to be all in fun, after all.

Their pitch was fevered and, to anyone who just happened to be passing by or watching from any window, they looked like two blurs. It seemed that time had slowed for the both of them as they tested their styles against one another.

Out of the blue, Aragorn picked up his sword and made to attack Niphredil. Though he was pulling punches on her, he still wanted to see how she would react given a drastic change in circumstances. Test her reaction to surprise.

Niphredil darted out of the way and, audibly, groaned. She'd been drawn away from her own weapon. A rookie's mistake if there ever was one. She chanced a look back behind her, noticing the distance between herself and her weapon.

As Aragorn rushed towards her, making up the small distance she had created by dancing out of his way, Niphredil deftly sprung backwards once...twice...three times. The third landed her near her own weapon. Smile on her face, she took the sword in hand.

Metal met metal and father and daughter continued their odd dance.

They went back and forth, sparring with all the skills they had, until a draw had to be declared. Only due to the fact they had both found themselves falling prey to exhaustion of the physical and mental types.

"You fight well, my daughter," Aragorn commented as they both rested under the shade of a larger tree watching the first starts wink on in the sky, "It would be my honor to complete your training and, perhaps, better acquaint you with how we use a blade."

"I'd like that a lot," Niphredil answered, "I'm always up for learning something new."

The pair sat quietly for a moment before Niphredil blurted out, "You know there was this expression Doc use to use about people fighting each other. I think it went something like 'You do not truly know someone until you fight them.' Never understood that until now."

Deciding not to burst Niphredil's bubble, he commented, "Doc must have been a very wise man. There is a great deal of truth in that statement....a great deal of truth."


	40. Le Notizie Difettose

AN: Sorry for the second delayed update in as many weeks. I had my last midterm (Microbiology) today and I'm done my creative writing project until the end of the semester. I had to write another original piece for the class to read and "workshop." It's not something I'm really comfortable with because my class isn't exactly the science fiction (which is what I wrote for the class) group. ANYWHO! I hope you're all having a great time with school and everything else. I seriously appreciate all of you taking the time out to read and review my little dog and pony show. This story's going to be wrapping up soon and I hope all of you stick around for my sequel-spin-off-type-thing that comes after it! Just keep reading and reviewing! You lot are the best!

Lilliena: Well, I'm glad you like this story! I do hope having you on pins and needles is a good thing. You're going to find out what Arwen's reaction to Niphredil's little adventures in sparring is soon. As for the councilmen, they're going to get their two cents in as well. I hope you enjoy this chapter too!

Ms. Unknown: Thanks! I figured I really couldn't have one beat up the other. Didn't really seem fair or something to that effect. Anyway, I'm glad you liked the chapter and here's the next one.

Lindele: I'm happy you liked the chapter and here's the next one!

Elven Script: Here's the next chapter. As for my name, it's a combination of four things I really like. "Genetically" comes from the fact I'm a biology major who'd like to get into genetic engineering someday and the fact I like the X-Men. "Elven" comes from the fact I like Lord of the Rings and write about the elves. "Gryffindor" is because I like to read Harry Potter.

IrethAncalime3791: It's a wicked cool saying...one of my favorites from _The Matrix Reloaded_. I'm happy you liked the chapter, it was fun to write. Thanks for the cheering up about updating late but, here I am, doing it again. Hopefully I won't be making a habit out of it.

Lindiel Eryn: Sorry it was so short. I got pressed for time at the end- my mom doesn't like me waking her up super late to tell her I'm going to bed. I'm glad you liked the chapter, despite the fact it was so short. Thank you for the compliments.

Shay: Hi there! Always glad to get reviews! They're really unexpected. Thank you very much for the complements. I'm glad my little horse and pony shows have managed to keep your attention. I'm glad you liked how Elrond and Arwen came out. They were really hard to like and I was really nervous that I was going to wind up not doing them justice. Thank you and I hope to hear from you again!

Disclaimer: I own nothing except for a handful of made up characters. Tolkien thought up the concept and, as such, it belongs to him. I'm just playing in his world. I'm broke and in college. All I own are Pointe Shoes.

Niphredil wanted to consider herself lucky. She and her father had managed to sneak back into the citadel and get back to their respective rooms. She'd managed to bathe and get changed before anyone noticed.

She figured people finding out that her and her father had been sparring- or that she had been fighting in general since it wasn't very "princess-like"- wasn't the very best idea.

Everything seemed to be going well, though. Even the informal dinner she'd had with her parents was quiet and uneventful. Niphredil wasn't sure why that set her on edge but it did. She kept expecting something to happen to her or her parents. Someone to show up or say something to them.

It wasn't happening, though, and that didn't sit quite right with Niphredil.

At the moment, though, she was sitting in her room. Not the room she'd initially been given either. Much to her surprise, though she figured she shouldn't have been surprised, she'd been given a room in the ruling family's quarters. It was a bigger room and, she guessed, more fitting to the fact she was the city's princess.

She had just sat down- to do some reading since she'd found a book written in a language she understood- when there was a knock at the door.

"Come in," she called, very much expecting it to be her father standing on the other side of the door.

She'd grown use to, and loved, her father's nighttime visits. Niphredil was exceedingly eager to talk with him about some of the moves he had used against her today. They were maneuvers she didn't recognize and, as such, had no counter for them. Her curiosity had been piqued and now she wanted to satisfy it.

She pulled the door open, after getting up from her bed, and nearly fell over with the shock of what was on its other side.

Both her parents stood there with very grave expressions on their faces. In her short memory of both of them, she could not recall them looking so strained or stressed.

"What's wrong?" she blurted, stepping back into her room and allowing her parents to enter.

She settled on her bed, sitting against the headboard. Her parents joined her on the large but rarely used structure.

Suddenly, Niphredil found herself wishing she hadn't been thinking about something happening. What she wouldn't give to have that quiet night she was having- the one that made her nervous- back again.

"We received word from Patrick," Aragorn started, in a strangled sort of tone, "that something called a newspaper in your former home mentioned you and your disappearance in it several times."

"They say your family there misses you and wishes you to come home," Arwen added in much the same tone, "they say you love them and they love you. That you were important to their home and their family and will give anything to have you back."

An odd expression passed over Niphredil's face as she listened to their words. She really and truly couldn't believe her ears. What she was hearing, to her anyway, was total and utter fiction.

"That's a bunch of made up lies. Those people didn't even like me around let along think I'm important to their family. They just don't want to be embarrassed by the fact I 'ran away' or whatever they say happened to me. It's about as made up as the stories about these kinds of places are in the other world," Niphredil ranted, making a sweeping gesture at the end of her statement to indicate the world around her.

"Why are they lies, Niphredil?" Aragorn, gently, questioned, "These people seem genuinely concerned about your health and well being."

"They're not, trust me. If they missed me or anything like that, I'll....I'll...I'll eat this bed. I was about as wanted there was like a plague is wanted in this city," the young half-elven maiden spat.

Her ire had been raised by the flat out lies she had been told. A strong urge to yell and scream, or hit something had taken up in Niphredil's chest. After being stuck in a lie for a good part of her life, she didn't like the fact the Jones' felt the need to perpetuate the lie. She had hoped beyond hope that they were just going to fade into the background of her life and not bother her here in her new home.

Seemed to her that wasn't the case. Though they were not there physically, they'd found a way to interject themselves in her new life. Much to her chagrin.

"Why is this bothering you, my child? Please, can you tell us," Arwen asked, plainly hurt by the fact Niphredil was hurting.

She wasn't sure, though, if it would be alright to go over and comfort the obviously hurting child. The pain was more emotional than physical in nature and there was nothing a healer could do to help her daughter. Emotional support- she and Aragorn just being there for Niphredil- could be offered.

At the moment, though, Niphredil looked a bit too angry to deal with any kind of support. She had feelings, powerful ones that needed to be vented first.

Niphredil ran a hand through her hair and took a shaky breath. She had wanted so badly to avoid this situation, not to have to do this, but it seemed she was going to have to. Maybe she wanted to avoid having to deal with these painfully raw emotions that stung like an open wound with salt in it.

It was unavoidable now, though. She was going to have to deal with them whether she liked them or not.

"I really didn't want to talk about this stuff because it hurt me to do it. It's not the best part of my life really. Well, there were some good parts but they were few and far between," Niphredil started, "This all started a little bit after I was adopted by these people who were called Jay and Kay Jones..."

Trying to keep herself in check, Niphredil tried to relate to her biological parents just what she'd gone through with the Jones family in the other world. When words failed her, she tried not to cry or express herself with random inarticulate sounds. They needed to know and she needed to try to tell them. It was just a matter of getting the words out.

The story took a great deal of time and her parents, she found, were a rapt audience. She was glad in a way that they didn't interrupt her telling. They allowed her to speak until she had nothing left to say.

"That's why I was so eager to come here," she finished with a broken voice and tears in her eyes, "I just wanted to meet you guys and, maybe, find out that I had a real family that cared about me. Just please don't feel sorry for me. That's the one thing I don't want."

"Have you found that?" Arwen inquired, deciding was the time was right to come over and put an arm around her daughter.

Niphredil leaned against her mother, resting her head on her mother's shoulder. Telling that story had taken a lot out of her but her left her with some valuable insight as well. In sight that could be used for a certain decision that had been gnawing at her brain for quite sometime.

"That and more," she answered, quietly, "Seriously, I'd rather be here with you two then there with them. There's nothing I want from them anymore. This is my home and where I belong. I've decided that now."

Subconsciously, she knew she had decided something else but she wasn't ready just yet to admit that much or go that far. Better to enjoy the moment she was in now.


	41. Figlie

AN: Many apologies for the lateness of this chapter. I had a blasted Microbiology lab practical exam yesterday at 8:30AM and then I had Bioethics and dance class. By the time I got home I was like dog tired. I'm better, albeit, frozen today. Though it's not even December, it seems that winter has decided to visit the Big Apple earlier this year. It's just way too cold for November. Maybe Christmas is in the air already….as my Girl Scout Troop is taking an inhuman number of kids and parents to see "The Polar Express" next Friday. Anywho, you all rock for taking time out and reviewing my story. I really enjoy getting your reviews and I hope all of you stick around for the next part of my little show.

Mystic-realm: Oh my! Thanks for the compliment. I just write, really, to pass the time between classes at school. Keeps me busy and quieter while I wait for my classes to start. I do hope you like this part too.

Ms. Unknown: I'm sorry if it got too emotional…it was just kind of something that needed doing. The truth had to, mostly, get out there. The rest of the truth will find its way into the open air too….sooner than later.

sunni07: Oh yeah…semester exams and midterms can really mess with everything. I'm glad you're liking chemistry better. That class can be, frankly, miserable when you don't like it. I remember classes being a real pain when I didn't like the topics we were doing. Though it might have been because I didn't like the professor who taught the class. We distilled everything in Organic Chemistry, including alcohol, caffeine, and orange oil. Here's the next chapter!

Shay: Sorry for the fact it was short but I'm glad you still liked it. You'll see both her decision and what she wants to do relatively soon. I promise it will concern all the people she left back in the Muggle world, including her foster family and Hope. More Emma will be coming up soon too. After all, she and Niphredil have enough in common to be friends.

Elven Script: I'm glad you liked the chapter! Here's the next chapter, fresh from my computer!

The Cap'n: Hiya! I'm glad you like my little story. Here's the next part and Ill do my best to avoid cliffhangers.

Lindiel Eryn: LOL…well, there's always that road. It just might be the road she picks but one can never tell. LOL…

Arami: Hiya! Thank you very much for the compliment. This was just done to pass time in school. As for Niphredil's decision and story, you shall soon see how they come into play.

Disclaimer: I own nothing except for a handful of made up characters. Tolkien thought up the concept and, as such, it belongs to him. I'm just playing in his world. I'm broke and in college. All I own are Pointe Shoes.

Deciding the mood needed a distinct changing, Niphredil decided to switch gears. Try to move the conversation away from her rather unhappy story to something…anything better. The mood had to change quickly before it started to depress the small family. There was a real need in Niphredil's heart and mind to make sure she kept the mood light and happy. The last thing the young half-elven maiden wanted was to be the cause of a malaise interrupting her family.

She grabbed for the first question she could. No matter how inane or stupid or foolish that question sounded. Well, to her parents, Niphredil figured the question sounded foolish. To her it was valid and one of those odd things that had been preying at her mind for a long while.

Yet another question she hadn't ever been able to find an answer to.

"I know this sounds kind of silly but is there any reasoning behind my name? Where I use to live people sometimes named their children things for a reason. Take my friend Hope, for example. Her parents called her that because they hoped the world would be better or different or something when she grew up," Niphredil babbled.

Aragorn laughed, watching the odd child he called his daughter switch verbal gears. There was very much about her he didn't understand but that he didn't mind. As far as he was concerned, there was plenty of time for him to figure out all the parts of her often odd personality.

Besides, he couldn't answer her question. He didn't have a hand in her naming as he wasn't there when she was born. He, himself, was very interested in the answer as well for there seemed to be nothing relating his daughter to her namesake.

The answer to this question fell to Arwen and Arwen alone.

"If translated, literally, Niphredil means 'snowdrop,'" Arwen answered with a slight smile, totally expecting another question.

Much to her non-surprise, Niphredil broached, "Is that like a snowflake or a snowdrift?"

The word "snowdrop" didn't ring any bells in her Muggle world trained vocabulary. She knew plenty of snowy words but that one was not among them. It was new and foreign to her but; then again, many language things in this world were both new and foreign to her.

"It has little to do with the snow that falls from the sky, Niphredil. You were named after a very pale flower found in Lothlorien where you were born. I dare say you remember that fair woods," Arwen replied.

Niphredil nodded the images from her Muggle world dreams filling her head. The place with the golden trees and the almost permanent setting of those dreams. So it was a real place, not some strange construct of a desperate mind. That made her feel a whole lot better about her dreams.

"I remember," she, slowly, affirming her mother's words.

"Arwen, I must say, 'niphredil' does seem like an odd choice for our daughter's name. Her dark hair and eyes strike a contrast with such a name," Aragorn commented.

Arwen gave a slight laugh, noting that Niphredil was gawking at them. This was, most likely, the first time she'd seen something like this. From the story she'd told them, the woman she was given to call mother wasn't one to question her husband. This, of course, was not the case now.

"It does seem like an odd choice now but, if you had seen her then, it would have fit. She was nearly as pale as the flowers she is named after and almost as frail. Things seem to be different now, though" Arwen retorted, favoring Niphredil with a smile.

Pale was a word she could still associate with herself but frail was not. Frail defined her friend Hope more than anyone else. Then again, Hope was deceptively tough despite her looks.

"Will I be able to go to Lothlorien someday? I'd like to see if it is as nice as I remember it. I use to dream about that place when I lived in the other world," Niphredil asked, breaking into the conversation.

"I believe you will. Your great-grandparents would be most eager for you to meet them…again. There is something, I feel that your great-grandmother would like to speak with you about. It is more her place to tell you about it than I," Arwen answered, being elusive.

No one had dared mention the gift Niphredil had been blessed with. Mostly because no one, not even the lore master Elrond, knew what to make of it. The only one who ever showed any understanding was Galadriel. Thus is fell on her to tell her very young great-grandmother about it.

The room grew quiet for a moment as an unspoken question formed in the air. It was the bringing up of the elves and of one of their strongholds that had done it.

Aragorn cleared his throat uncomfortably and, in an almost hesitant voice, asked, "I know this is something I should not be asking, Niphredil, but have you made your decision yet? Time grows short for you and there are many who would like your answer."

Niphredil shifted uncomfortably and sat up against the headboard of her bed. She pulled her knees into her chest, resting her head on them. Telling her story had forced her hand, made her decision so painfully easy that she wanted to kick herself for not thinking of it before.

She was being given on opportunity to break any and every tie she'd ever had with the Jones family. That included ties to name, home, and, oddly enough, race. Name was easily changed- she was already thinking of herself as part of her biological family. Home, too, was an easy switch. No longer did she live in Westchester, New York; she was from Middle Earth now and lived in the city of Gondor.

It was the race part that both shocked and disturbed her. Dare she take the chance and break that one final tie to her previous life.

Then again, what would breaking that final tie do to her family here? She didn't want them feeling angry, upset, or resentful towards her. She could go back to the Jones for that kind of treatment. She wanted them- in the worst way- to accept the decision she had made.

All she had to do was own up to her unconscious decision.

"I have, actually. Please, I'm begging you, don't be angry with me. This has nothing to do with both of you. It's just that my time in the other world- what I've seen and done and experienced- has made me…unhappy…with the race of men," she started, trying to gather up what nerve she had.

Suddenly, that karate trained courage- her tough girl façade- was gone. She was what she really was. Just a very scared child faced with a decision that was a whole lot larger then she was.

A verdict had to be rendered, though, and she knew what choice she wanted to make.

"I think I'd like to be considered an elf," she, ever, so slowly admitted.

Niphredil buried her head in her knees, not wanting to meet the eyes of both her parents. She was half expected some type of harsh retort from them about her decision.

The retort never came. Since it was her decision and her decision alone, there was very little her parents could do about it.

They could be resentful and angry and fault her for what she felt was right but neither Aragorn nor Arwen felt the need to do that to their daughter. Acceptance, just as she had accept them and the circumstances surrounding her birth had been accepted by Elrond, was the best and only acceptable policy.

"That is a fair decision, my child," Aragorn broached, "and it seems to be the best one for you. It will be a double honor for my daughter to be a child of the Eldar and sail West someday."

"It will?" she asked, sounding both stunned and surprised.

This was certainly not the reaction she was expecting. A pleasant surprise to say the least.

"Of course," Arwen added, guessing at her husband's train of thought, "someone must tell my mother about us and how happy we were. It will do her well to see you there and it will make me feel better."

That much Niphredil didn't understand but she decided to go along with it. After all, they weren't screaming at her and telling her how horrid she was. That was a very good sign to say the least. Such acceptance was very odd to the maiden who had come from a world where she was an outcast- no accepted- since she was different.

There was just one thing left for her to do…not what her decision had been made. One thing that could bring closure to this whole situation.

"Would it be alright," she asked, "if I were to go back to the other world for a bit?"

"Why?" Arwen countered, "Are you unhappy here?"

With a half wicked smile, Niphredil replied, "It's nothing like that. There's just a few things I have to do and I want you two to, please, come with me."


	42. Lasci la Presa

AN: This is it….next to the last chapter of this story. I'm sorry it's taken so long to come to this point but I hope everyone's had fun. There's a semi-sort of-kind of sequel for this story in the works and I hope you all look out for that. I had my first "workshop" in my Creative Writing class last Friday. Things went…oddly…for me and my poor story. I got some good feedback about characters and settings and things like that from some of my class. Then I had one girl totally rip me on how terrible the story was because it was a seriously sci-fi/cyberpunk/baseball crossover. My professor was really confused about the entire story since I left a cliffhanger ending s he asked me to write a sequel to it by the end of the semester. Anywho, thanks for all your reviews! They rock like a box of socks and helped a great deal when I had to write out my Creative Writing assignment.

Ms. Unknown: It most certainly will! At least, I hope it will. Anyway, here's the next part and I hope you like it!

Elven Script: It's a happy thing, I think. Well, it is for her anyway but, no worries, things will start looking up for Niphredil. I'm glad you liked my chapter and, trust me, my author powers are few. It just write to pass the time in school. Here's my next post!

LalaithoftheBruinen: I never though of it that way but that makes a whole lot of sense. Thanks for the thought! I greatly appreciate it! I'm not going to go as far as that and mess with Tolkien's lines of succession. Eldarion will still be Aragorn's heir; he'll just have an elven older sister wandering around too. Maybe just to get in the way of any other daughters Aragorn and Arwen have too since she's just a little different. Anyway, here's my next chapter! Fresh from my computer!

The Cap'n: Let's just say there are some…loose ends…that need trying. Her parents, as well as her step-siblings- are among those ends.

Mystic-realm: Aw…thanks. I'll try to keep up the good work in this next part.

Lindiel Eryn: LOL….I'm glad you liked my pervious chapter!

Shay: Don't worry; the wicked step family (all of them) will get what's coming to them. Maybe in the form of magic or in some other form but they'll get what they deserve. There's lost of interesting ways for them to be "punished" for their transgressions. As for Hope, she'll get to see her friend again and she may yet get to Middle Earth for a visit. I'm not sure yet but I'll see what I can do. Thanks for pointing that out. I kind of tend to update really late at night/early in the morning and my spelling and things like that tend to get out of whack. Anywho, here's the next part!

Arami: WOW! Talk about good timing! I got your review just as I was writing this chapter! I'm glad you liked the song/poetry in the chapter. I have a habit of doing that since I feel it helps the story or something like that. I'm also glad you like the fact she's sticking around in Middle Earth. Though she has certain things she'd miss about earth, she's not going to go back. I hope you had fun in New York. It's a great city! Thanks!

Disclaimer: I own nothing except for a handful of made up characters. Tolkien thought up the concept and, as such, it belongs to him. I'm just playing in his world. I'm broke and in college. All I own are Pointe Shoes.

It was a disconcerting feeling, really, as Niphredil passed through what seemed to her to be the trunk of a very large tree. Well, she wasn't passing directly through the trunk of the tree as it was. More like she was passing through this odd portal- gate? - Patrick had opened for them.

Actually, she hadn't seen the red-headed wizard at all. Apparently, somehow, her grandfather got in contact with the wizard. Time and place were organized and here she stood with her parents in a secluded area in some public park in Salem Center. Kind of ironic really considering she's left this world via a park.

That was the least of her worries, now though. Niphredil's eyes cast around the park looking for anyone who might have seen them come through the portal. Trying to explain that would have been one mean feat and something she really didn't feel up to doing.

As it was, Niphredil saw she had a lot on her plate at the moment. Between her purpose for coming back and the fact she was on a total and utter sensory overload, she didn't want to have to tell a person that she hadn't really come out of a tree. Like they'd believe her.

Niphredil was well aware of the fact this was not her parents first time on this earth- they'd gone with Legolas to see Emma dance before she left this world. - but she couldn't help but stifle a giggle when she looked at them. Both looked so uncomfortable in the garb provided for them as they'd crossed into this world and in the world itself.

The sights and sounds, mechanical and electrical in nature, were wholly unfamiliar to them. As such, it caused them a bit of mental and physical confusion.

"All the more reason," Niphredil decided, "for me to hurry up."

She felt bad causing them harm but they were an important part of her "master plan." If her memory served her correctly, and she hoped it did and that time didn't pass oddly between her former home and her new home, all of the Jones' friends would be over their house today. It was the twins' birthday, after all.

"Come on," Niphredil whispered, her voice smallish and quiet, "It's not far from here."

Through the once familiar neighborhood she took her parents, leading them down paths she once felt so comfortable walking down.

Now, though, everything was alien to her and very much foreign. The cars were mechanical monstrosities that replaced the horses she was so use to seeing and riding. Electrical street lamps and the glaring lights from buildings cast the sky in an odd light and prevented her from seeing the stars wink on in the twilight. The few stars she did see seemed dim when compared to the ones in the skies above Minas Tirith.

How she ever managed to live here was beyond her. In this unnatural world with its foul air that seemed to be invading her lungs as she walked.

"Is something wrong, Niphredil?" Aragorn asked, watching her as she stopped waiting for a stop light to change colors.

She shook her head, thinking that nothing was really wrong. It was just that the expression on her face had changed considerably when a thought entered her mind. One of those epiphany moments her English teachers in school use to talk about.

"I just realized you can't go home again. I left this place, not because I didn't feel right here but because I wanted to find a family. Now I realized just how much I don't belong her either. This place doesn't fit anymore…it's not my home," Niphredil admitted, leading her parents across the busy street and trying to ignore the stares they were getting.

For all their clever "disguising" it was plain to see that Aragorn and Arwen had this otherworldly quality about them, as if they really and truly didn't belong here. The same air was about Niphredil but not too such a large degree yet. It was only just beginning in her, despite what the young elven female felt at the moment.

Through a maze of houses, fancy but nothing as grand as the citadel she lived in, she lead her parents. Their final destination was a home set apart from the others by a sprawling yard and an exceedingly high fence.

"What is this place?" Arwen asked, curiously.

"This," Niphredil answered, opening the gate with a practiced hand, "was my home."

She led her slightly stunned parents up the front walk. Despite her being gone for a period of time this place hadn't changed. Everything from the trees to the well manicured grass to the silly little lawn lamps was still the same. She hadn't expected any change but…hey…one never knew.

Miracles could happen but the Jones' were stuck like a car in the mud. They spun their tires and felt they were going somewhere. In truth they were going no where fast. They were just spraying up a wall of mud and making a huge mess.

"You use to live here?" Aragorn commented, mentally comparing this place to any and every location he had ever visited in Middle Earth.

This place paled in comparison to any but, then again, this world was nothing like Middle Earth. Even in his second visit, this place still bothered him.

"I did live here but I didn't really _live_ here. I kind of just stayed here since there was no place else for me to go. Couldn't breakaway from these people because there was no place for me to go….until now," she answered, mounting the front steps two at a time.

"You friend here would not have kept you safe?" Arwen inquired.

"Who? Hope?" Niphredil answered, "She lives in a school and I wouldn't have fit in there anyway. You'll see if I can get in there later. I have to see her before I leave."

"I'm sure well will get there," Arwen said, assuring her suddenly skittish looking daughter.

Niphredil gave her mother a wan smile and rang the bell again. The chime, she knew, would echo throughout the house and bounce through the vast rooms. She'd even been able to hear it in her own room. Not that she ever answered the door since it was never for her anyway.

Why they weren't answering, Niphredil couldn't say. Perhaps they were just having such a raucous party that they weren't hearing the annoyingly loud chimes?

"Are they home, Niphredil?" Aragorn asked, coming up to stand behind his daughter.

"They should be," she worried, "They usually throw the twins these massive parties here. More to show off the house and whatever they've done to it in the past year. They're like that here."

Her voice was disgusted as she spoke. Even before she'd left, she knew the family she'd been forced to live with was about as deep as a wading pool. Now that she'd gone to her true home, met her real family that difference was quite glaring. A lot of differences were now but she wasn't keen on dwelling on them right now.

Sure enough, her elven ears heard the pounding of feet approaching the door. Someone had heard the bell and was on their way.

She took a deep breath, centering herself and preparing herself for what she knew she had to do. If she could leave this world and take an adventure to Middle Earth and, once there, make the most life altering decision ever…well…she could do this.

The door swung open and the figure standing in the open doorway simply gawked.

"Mom, dad, James. I think you need to come out here," Jane- dressed in a too short lurid pink skirt and a too tight white top- bellowed.

Niphredil stepped away from the door, her back bunking into her father's front. She felt a hand come down on her shoulder as a way to steady her out. His grip was friendly, though, and familiar and warm. Something she figured she needed right about now. It was always a plus, too, that he was quite a bit taller than Jay.

"Come to think of it," she decided, watching as everyone including her foster parents file onto the wide front porch, "_nana_'s a whole lot taller than Kay."

She allowed her eyes to wander, looking for her _nana_. She found her standing next to her father, watching the gathering crowd.

Niphredil didn't move at all, not wanting to be the first to do or say anything. She really didn't care too. All she wanted was to say what she had to say and get out of here. Well, see Hope and then get out of there.

It was Kay who made the first move, rushing forward, pulling Niphredil away from Aragorn, and throwing her arms around the elven child. The water works turned on and Niphredil wanted nothing more than to go back to her father's safe hands or her mother's most comfortable embrace.

This- Kay with tears in her eyes and her arms around Niphredil- was annoyingly fake and aggravatingly awkward. Kay had never so much as given the elven child a pat on the arm let alone a hug.

"Oh my, Freddy, we missed you so much. We were all so worried about you. Not coming home like that. We all thought the worst but here you are, safe and sound," Kay sobbed.

Like something carved from stone, Niphredil's expression didn't change. She couldn't be affected by Kay's words since she knew them to be fake. Not like everyone around her- save her birth parents. They fell under the spell of Kay's words.

"I'm really sure you are, Kay," she commented, pulling away and stepping back towards Aragorn and Arwen, "and I've told you not to call me that. My name is Niphredil. They don't call me that."

She gestured to the couple standing behind her. It was strange, actually. She didn't even have to tell them what she preferred to be called. They just, sort of, called her Niphredil all the time. Something she was quite relieved about.

"And who are they?" Jay snapped, obviously upset his wife's charade was falling to shreds.

"These are my birth parents," she, proudly stated, "I didn't run away, that would have been the chicken's thing to do, and I think I know how to handle myself thanks to Doc. I got the opportunity to meet my birth parents and I took it. I'm just here to do the polite thing and tell you I'm leaving and going to stay with them."

"What are you talking about? We've been nothing but kind to you? Given you a home and a family when these people didn't want you? What would you rather have; a nice family like us or a family that will give you up like them?" Kay cried, trying to save face.

Niphredil felt her parents stiffen behind her, taking the insult personally. They had every right to, though, since Kay was talking about them. The comments, however, had been directed towards Niphredil and it was Niphredil who wanted to deal with them. She had to…just to close this chapter of her life and open a fresh new one.

"Them, any day of the week. You and Jay and those beasts you call children aren't a family. You kept me around because you didn't want to be embarrassed by me taking off or by sending me back. You two aren't even fit to parent a dog, let along a child. They had their reasons for giving me up and those reasons are ten thousand times better than yours for adopting me," she snapped.

"You two….you can't do this. I have the best lawyers and she'll be back with us soon enough,' Jay threatened.

Aragorn, standing at his full height and, in Niphredil's opinion, looking very much like a warrior-king, glared down at Jay.

"I highly doubt that will take place. No one is taking my daughter away from my wife and I," he stated.

"That's not legal. Jay, tell him he can't do that," Kay pleaded.

Jay opened his mouth to say something but he wilted under Aragorn's glare.

It was Niphredil who spoke instead, "Do whatever you want Jay? By the time you muster up your little legal army, we'll be long gone and you'll never find us. I'm going someplace very, very far away."

She thought for a moment before adding, "I'd say it was nice knowing you but it wasn't. This was about as fun as…say…getting trampled by a horse. Thanks for keeping me in one place and all but I have to go."

With a shrug and her parents behind her, Niphredil stalked from the yard. In her wake, she left a very stunned crowd of people, all gawking at her back.

It didn't hit her until she was a bit away from the Jones home. That all encompassing let down of adrenaline that always happened after emotions like that ran high. She paused in her steps, earning her a concerned look from both her parents.

"Do you wish to head home Niphredil? Are you alright?" Aragorn asked.

Much to their communal surprise, she started to laugh.

"I can't believe I just did that. I can't tell you how long I've wanted to do that," she blurted, shaking and laughing all at once.

It took her a moment to compose herself before she was able to speak again.

"No. We can't go yet! There's still someone who had to know I'm leaving. She deserves the truth…not some story their going to cook up to cover themselves up," Niphredil protested, "It'll be fast. I promise."

Down another set of streets she led her parents, walking the path that she use to take to go to Tae Kwan Do. Of course, she wasn't going to the dojo. Instead she stopped in front of one of the most ornate buildings in the neighborhood.

To all but a select few it looked like a regular boarding school. Those in the "know," Niphredil included, knew that The Xavier School for Gifted Youngsters was a mutant training facility, school, and safe haven. It also happened to be her friend Hope's home.

Niphredil thanked whatever luck she had that there was students on the grounds when she walked by. She had all the more reason to thank her luck when her keen eyes spotted Hope, sitting on the grass watching the others play in the dwindling light.

"Your friend lives here? What manner of place is this?" Arwen asked, watching the children playing.

"It's a school for kids who have special…abilities. Hope has her own special abilities and I think she's just put one to use now," Niphredil laughed, watching the tiny mutant make her way over to the gate.

Hope pulled the gate open and her face split into a wide grin when she saw just why she'd been drawn over. She was very "sensitive" to the minds she knew best.

"Niphredil," she exclaimed, "Where'd you go? We were all worried about you! My dad said he say you go off with an old man and disappear. Are you alright?"

Niphredil knew the small mutant's concern- and her parents' concern- was genuine. Hope's family had embraced Niphredil as one of their own and were, sometimes, overly nice to her. Not that she wasn't grateful for the attention.

"I'm fine, Hope. The old man your dad saw me with was a wizard. He took me home, like to where I was born, and I got to meet my birth parents," Niphredil explained.

Hope gave her an incredulous look, not believing her at first. With mental permission from her friend, Hope found that Niphredil wasn't lying. It was all in her head for her to see if she so desired.

"That's excellent. I'm so glad for you," she commented, "Will I get to meet them? Can I meet them?"

"Of course. They're right here. I brought them since I wanted them to meet you," Niphredil told Hope.

To her parents, she commented, "_Nana_, father, this is Hope. Hope this is my mother Arwen and my father Aragorn."

It didn't take a mind reader- though Hope knew a few and could do a little mind reading herself- to figure out what ran through the tiny mutant's head. Unlike Niphredil, Hope had read the _Lord of the Rings_ books. She knew the names of the characters and the roles they played. She pieced it all together like one big quilt.

"You're serious, aren't you? He's the High King of Gondor and she's his Queen and you're an elven, immortal princess," Hope broached.

"I'm very serious, Hope," Niphredil answered, "I know it sounds crazy and all but it's true. Every word of it."

"No...no…I believe you. That means, though, you're leaving. You're going to stay there, right?" Hope asked, her smallish voice getting smaller.

Niphredil knew this was going to be the worst part, saying her "good bye" to her only true friend in this world. If she could have, she would have taken Hope with her but she knew that was impossible. Hope had her family here and she was needed for so many things. There was no way she could take her away from that.

"I have to, Hope, you know that. This is what I've always wanted. I finally have my family and a life I can be happy about," Niphredil answered.

"I know," Hope countered, "but, maybe, I can come visit you sometime? I'd love to see the White City for real, instead of just an image in my imagination."

Niphredil looked to her parents for that answer. She would have liked to just assure Hope she could but wouldn't have been fair at all. She deserved the truth.

"I think we may be able to arrange something, little one. It is only fair since you were so kind to our daughter," Aragorn answered.

"Thank you, my lord," Hope commented, giving Aragorn and Arwen her best curtsey.

"So you make sure to stay healthy and safe and you can come for a visit. It'll be fun, Hope," Niphredil promised her friend.

"I'll do my best but I don't know about that healthy thing," Hope retorted, referring to the fact she was nearly always sick.

Niphredil pulled the tiny mutant into a fierce hug before stating, "You better get going. I bet your mom's worried sick about you."

Hope's expression grew far away and she nodded in an absent minded way.

"She is. She doesn't like me not in the house after dark anymore…afraid bad things will happen since I'm…you know…a mutant," Hope stated, in a hushed voice.

"Then you best get going," Arwen said, "I would not want you to get into trouble on our account."

After another "good-bye" and the promise of a visit someday, Niphredil watched Hope disappear onto the school's vast property.

"Are you ready to do, my child?" Aragorn asked, curiously.

"Now we can go," Niphredil stated, "I'm done here; have no reason to stick around. I want to go home to stay."

That was all she needed to say, as she decided this chapter of her life was over. Every page written and illustrated for all to see. It was time to open up a new chapter and what better place to start than her home in Middle Earth.


	43. Buongiorno, Principessa

AN: This is it! This is the end! Of this story anyway….there's always its semi-sort of sequel that I have for this story. I'm sorry for the delay on this chapter. I was swamped with homework over Thanksgiving break. I had a huge Microbiology test, a lab report on two unknown organisms for Microbiology Lab, and a ten to fifteen page paper to write for my Religion, Society, and Culture class. Now that's all done and I can update again. All this work is getting piled on because I'm down to my last three weeks of school! Anywho, I can't thank the lot of you enough for hanging around for the ride and reviewing all along. You all rock like a box of socks and I hope you're going to ride along with me on the semi-sort of sequel to this story.

Mystic-realm: I'm glad you liked the story. Here's the last part of the story and I hope you enjoy it just as much as all the others.

LalaithoftheBruinen: Oh! Don't be sad! Be happy! This is the final part but there's always another story waiting in the wings. I'll get that story up as soon as humanly possible (or as soon as my professors let up on the work…blasted final weeks!)

Shay: Don't worry…I nearly always have something planned or a sequel in the works. I'm glad you liked everything she did back in the Muggle World and the fact she told Hope the truth. There's always the possibility of Hope showing up and having a good time there. I'd keep an eye on that gift for a while. It's going to come up in a huge way soon…and may play a part in the ending of this story. As for my creative writing class, my professor has the most monotone voice on the face of the earth. For three hours (the length of my class) he talks in the same boring voice. Other than that, and the people sometimes, the class is pretty fun.

sunni07: I'm looking for the person who invented the phrase "user friendly" to describe computers because, half the time, it's not true! They do weird stuff! I'm glad you liked the song; I kind of thought it fit…sort of…in a way. Sadly, this will be the last chapter…for this story anyway!

Ms. Unknown: She may be loosing the friend but she earned the truth in the process and she's the only one there to know the truth. I figured that the song was appropriate for the story but it's cool that you're going to use it. Have fun with it! It's a good song!

IrethAncalime3791: Well, next to the last chapter. This one is the very last one for this story. I'm glad you liked the story, especially the part where Jay was getting stared down. Maybe it was just a little payback for what he did to Niphredil during her stay with them.

Arami: Aw…thanks! Since Niphredil had nothing to lose and, really, nothing to fear, she could do or say anything she wanted to Jay and Kay. Give her the opportunity to say what was on her mind. As for Hope, she may get to pay Niphredil a visit. Then we'd get an American mutant in King Aragorn's court.

Elven Script: Here's my next post! I'm glad you liked the previous chapter!

pixie88: Don't feel bad about being busy….everyone is busy in some way, especially where school's involved. Wow! You're a Microbiology major! That's wicked cool! I am taking Microbiology but I'm just a run of the mill biology major hoping to get into genetics. Micro's fun except I find that TSA plates smell really bad. Like wet dog food or something, but that's just me. I'm glad you liked the direction this story took and I do hope you stick around for the sequel.

elentir girl: I'm glad you liked the chapter! Here's the ending of the story!

Disclaimer: I own nothing except for a handful of made up characters. Tolkien thought up the concept and, as such, it belongs to him. I'm just playing in his world. I'm broke and in college. All I own are Pointe Shoes.

"_Nana_, I can't do this," Niphredil groaned, sitting down on her parent's bed.

Telling Jay and Kay what she thought was easy. Facing an angry Fire with an unknown weapon in her hands was tough but not as tough as the situation she was walking into.

This situation was absolute and pure torture. Something she shouldn't have to do and was finding that she was totally unable to do it. There were few things that Niphredil felt were impossible but this was impossible.

Arwen, sitting at the vanity table in her room, turned to face her daughter with a slight smile on her face. She could understand why this situation was so problematic for Niphredil. She had every right to be nervous- Arwen would have been more concerned if Niphredil wasn't nervous- but it was just a tad out of character for her, usually, confident daughter.

"You can, Niphredil," Arwen assured her daughter, "there is nothing to fear. It is just a few words and then there will be a celebration."

The "this" they were talking about was the small ceremony that would make Niphredil the titled Princess of Gondor. She was unable to be the city's heir because of the elven choice she had made but her father had insisted she be given the title she was due. Thus the ceremony was set up.

The problem was- Well, it wasn't really a problem but it was a strange twist in the situation- that this ceremony was done when the child was just an infant. Niphredil was in no way, shape, or form an infant. She was well aware of what was going on and of the opinions the others had about her being given the title.

There were some who felt that she did not deserve the title because she was an elf in a mortal's city. Others felt she was not deserving because she was, technically, born before her parents were wed and her father had become High King of Gondor. These same people- most elder members of her father's council- had been the ones to speak out against her even being brought to Middle Earth.

Aragorn had heard these opinions and still insisted on this ceremony taking place.

"But, _nana_, they don't want me to have this title. They don't want me here at all…for a lot of reasons," Niphredil tried to explain, her voice slightly pleading.

"Like what, my daughter?" Arwen asked.

She gestured for her daughter to take a seat at the table which she did with no complaining. Both had to dress in their finest for the ceremony and, despite the fact there were maids who had offered to help the young princess, Arwen had insisted on preparing Niphredil for the ceremony herself. Already the young elven princess was wearing a cream colored dress with a startling black and silver design woven into the top. Her hair was the only thing left to deal with.

Niphredil sighed; trying not to move to much as Arwen plaited her hair into a complex series of twists, and answered, "I hear what they say about me. How I'm not like everyone else here; how I'm not normal."

Arwen tied off the end of the long braid she had been working on and, somehow managed to, pull her daughter into a fierce hug. A protective hug as if she could simply shield her from their harsh words.

"Do not listen to them, Niphredil. They are old and set in their ways and do not like the fact your father is changing everything to make this city a better place. This is just one more thing for them to find fault with," Arwen started but was cut off.

"So, it is my fault, since I came here of my own free will. There wouldn't be all this opposition if I wasn't here," Niphredil commented, dryly.

"That is not the truth, my daughter. You belong here, part of here in a way that is only beginning to show. Even if you did not come home to us, your father would still face opposition. Change comes slowly to people in all places both here and in the other world," Arwen pointed out.

Niphredil thought for a moment, weighing out her mother's words. That was very true in the Muggle World; she knew that to be correct. For her, the prime example was the situation Hope and all her friends and family found themselves in. The world was slow to accept the fact that they were different and unique but still human. Instead of acceptance, they were faced with anger, hatred, and fear. If they were ever to be expected, Niphredil knew it would take an uncountable number of years.

She nodded her understanding, going back to sitting still and allowing her mother to finish whatever she was doing. Well, that and worrying about what was about to take place.

What seemed like a short time later, Arwen appeared at Aragorn's side in the citadel's main throne room.

"How is she fairing?" Aragorn asked as Arwen took the seat to his left and straightened out her skirts.

"Niphredil's afraid, Aragorn. She is worried her doing this will cast an ill light on you and your rule," Arwen, being as truthful as possible, answered.

Aragorn shook his head and cast an angry glare at the bevy of councilmen seated together closest to the throne. If they were not there, this day would have been that much better in his mind. This was the first time, in a very long time, many of his eldest friends would be gathered together.

Needless to say, the reasons for the ceremony came as a great shock to them but they had all come. Even the sisters, Fire and Ice, along with the rest of their band, had arrived early clad in full armor. Orange, blue, and black burned brightly next to the silver armor the Gondor's guards.

"She should not worry about them. They will have to understand my reasoning for doing this and come to either accept it or not. Even if they do not, they cannot undo what we have done," he reminded Arwen.

"I know that. You will just have to get Niphredil understand it as well. Though she has a tough exterior, she feels everything as keenly as a blade," Arwen countered.

She thought a moment and added, "Like her father."

Aragorn would have responded if not for the opening of the doors on the far end of the room and the fact his breath caught in his throat when he saw the figure standing there.

Niphredil had promised herself two things as she parted from her mother and stood behind the closed doors leading to the throne room and to the fate waiting for her on the other side.

The first was that she was not going to panic and race down the length of the room like some silly flower girl in a Muggle World wedding. She was going to act the part she was being asked to act and be graceful and dignified and confident. All those things people said she was when they wanted to flatter her before she flattened them. She wasn't going to make either of her parents look bad by acting as immaturely as possible.

In the Muggle World, she had been considered nearly an adult. Certain things were expected of adults in that world and she was going to try her best to uphold them. Even if the young elf she knew herself to be was shaking in its fancy slippers.

The second promise she had made to herself was very, very simple and straightforward. Whatever she was going to do, she wasn't going to fall. Not that she made it a habit to fall but, with her luck, she knew a spill was entirely possible.

As the heavy wooden doors were pulled open by two silver clad guardians of the citadel, Niphredil had to fight the normal fight or flight reaction. Suddenly it was not the length of a room she had to walk down but some kind of length of air desert or dense, impassable jungle.

"Come on," she chided herself, as she took a few tentative baby steps into the room,  
You can do this. There's nothing to be afraid of. This is just another competition."

She kept telling herself that as she made her way down the length of the room and tried to ignore all the eyes that seemed to be following her. Instead she focused on the banners that lined the walls of the room. Save for the silver and sable of her own city, she did not recognize any of the others on the walls.

Nor did Niphredil recognize a majority of the people seated underneath the brightly colored banners. Sure she recognized Emma, sitting silently but comfortably between her brother and her foster mother, and her grandfather, who sat between his sons with a stoic expression for the moment. Her eyes grazed over the faces of the council members as she pretended not to recognize their, sadly, familiar faces.

Everyone else in the room, though, seated under the festive banners, was a total and utter stranger. All the more reason for her to make an attempt to keep up a brave face. That would have been great…make her father look bad in front of the obviously important people.

Much to her relief, as an age passed in her mind, she reached the foot of the throne. Her father, standing while her mother sat, baffled her for all of a moment. Then she noticed the small downward motion her mother was making.

In the midst of all the excitement, she had forgotten completely what she was supposed to do. The directions she had been given days before had completely slipped her mind.

She "took a knee," as the expression went, kneeling in deference to her father's position. Of course, the move made little sense to her as she was about to take a position a little below her father's. Though, Doc had taught her to play along and follow the moves of an opponent. There was always an opportunity to learn something in there some where.

Aragorn smiled and offered his daughter a hand, which she took. He brought her to a standing position and, much to everyone's shock, linked arms with his elven daughter.

"You look wonderful, my daughter," he whispered, just low enough for elven ears to pick up.

She mumbled something in response, fighting the blush that threatened to spread on her face. That wouldn't have helped any in her current situation.

Everything seemed to slow, as she was brought over to where her mother sat.

Again she was asked to "take a knee," as her father started to speak the oddest language Niphredil had heard. It sounded like elvish but certainly not the version she was learning to speak. It had a formal and, an almost, ancient quality to it. It still, however, managed to maintain the same musical quality all elven speech- Well, that's what Niphredil assumed anyway- seemed to possess.

The music of the words lulled her into a sense of peace as her father continued to speak. Somewhere in the back of her head she recalled her mother telling her that these were the traditional blessings said upon a newly born member of the royal family, modified since she was not newly born nor was she of mortal fate. Instead of asking for a long, healthy life, Aragorn asked for a good life, filled with all the wonderful things only the immortal elves could ever understand and appreciate and for smooth sailing to the Undying Lands when the time came.

He eyes flicked upwards, full understanding returning, as Aragorn reached to the table between his and Arwen's thrones. Sitting on an ink colored cushion, was a thin band of silver and pearl. In its natural design, made to look like twisting vines, the mark of the elves could be found.

This band was lifted and, with a gentle motion, placed on her head.

Her father's hand she took again, getting to her feet with a nervous smile. Gone were the images she once had of poofy dresses and heavy crowns and wicked stepmothers and malicious kings and knights in shining from the fairy tales of the Muggle World.

They had been replaced by what Niphredil knew now. Images of parents who wanted her and just happened to be king and queen and of princesses who were not pawns in power bids by their families. Of being allowed to dress and act as she wished so long as it made her happy. The knights in shining armor part she was still out on but, then again, she was still new to this world.

"My good Lords and Ladies, I present to you my daughter and princess of Gondor, Niphredil," Aragorn called, voice echoing throughout the vast chamber.

For half a heartbeat the room was silent. Then clapping, polite at first but louder as the moments passed, sprang up in the room. Aragorn's smile dimmed only slightly as he noticed the members of his own council not among the clapping throng.

"They will learn," he decided as his smile returned.

It was not the vast feast that passed in a blur of food and faces that impressed the newly crowned elven princess. Instead, it was the small party that took place afterwards.

Those Aragorn considered to be closest friends and family gathered in a smaller room for a less formal celebration of sorts. All the trappings of royalty had been stripped away leaving them not kings, queens, and princes but friends, brothers-in-arms, and family.

"Emma, can I talk to you for a second?" Niphredil questioned, approaching the quietly observing Mirkwood Princess.

"Sure," Emma replied, Americanized speech slipping in her voice as she spoke to Niphredil, "What do you want to talk about?"

"Look, I have an idea. Something I've been meaning to do since I found out you danced and that my dad's seen you dance," Niphredil broached.

A bright smile flitted over Emma's face. It had been a long time since she'd last danced for Aragorn and Arwen. It had felt like ages, actually, since she'd last preformed for anyone other than those in Mirkwood. The dancer in Emma was itching for a different crowd, despite the fact she had danced at the same studio much of her time in the Muggle World.

"What are you planning?" she asked, her voice and demeanor excited.

"Here's the plan," Niphredil began, leading Emma away from the main body of the crowd lest someone hear her plans.

With Emma's assurance that she knew exactly what she wanted to do, Niphredil approached her father the moment she saw him standing alone. Seeming rude and interrupting him when he was with others was not part of her plan in any way, shape, or form.

"Father, would if be possible for me to address those gathered here?" she asked, trying to keep the smile off her face and her voice as even as possible.

"Of course it is possible, Niphredil," Aragorn replied, "Why?"

"I was just curious and there's something I'd like to d…say to everyone," she sputtered, almost stumbling over what she wanted to really say.

With a few shouted words in both human and elven speech, Aragorn called the small gathered crowd to attention.

"The floor is yours," he told Niphredil, gesturing to the spot where he stood.

"Thank you, father," she answered, standing in her father's spot.

Emma, quiet as a mouse, slipped next to Niphredil, making her foster parents and brother wonder what was going on.

"I've been meaning to do this for a while but now seemed like the best time to do this. Just a note, the song's called 'Proud of your Boy' but neither Emma or I are boys. It's the premise of the song that counts," Niphredil explained.

To Emma, who was fairly bouncing on the slippered balls of her feet, she asked, "You ready?"

"Of course," Emma answered, taking a pose someplace near the center of the room.

With a nod from the young dancer- who claimed to be modeling her dance after some combination her class did to a different song but the steps still fit- Niphredil began to sing.

Niphredil finished the song with a flourish and Emma with a small bow. Comments and credits were about to be given to the pair- who were steadfast in their claim that this was truly the first time they had every work together- when a wide-eyed Ice came bursting into the room.

She no longer wore the armor she had one earlier in the day. It had been replaced by a simple garment of shifting gray hues. On her back was a quiver of white fletched arrows and a bow was in her hands.

"My Lord Aragorn," she stated, bowing slightly before straightening up, "I am very sorry for interrupting your celebration but I bring urgent news from Lothlorien."

The change of clothing and of weaponry was easy to explain, as was the means by which Ice had come and gone from Gondor to Lothlorien and back again in such a short period of time. It was Patrick and his infamous Portkey or something very much like them.

"There is no need to be sorry, my lady Ice. What word comes from the Golden Woods?" Aragorn wanted to know.

"The Lady Galadriel requests you send your daughter to Lothlorien with me. It is time she learns of her abilities and there is good she must do," Ice replied.

Niphredil looked to her father, confused and nervous all at once. She hadn't a clue what was going on. What abilities did she have? What was she going to have to do?

"Come, Niphredil, you must prepare," Aragorn, gently, said.

"What's going on, father, _nana_?" she asked.

"You have been ordered to go see your great-grandmother, my daughter. We best get you ready," Arwen said, "It is not wise to leave her waiting. We best get moving."

Confused and, admittedly, a bit afraid, Niphredil followed her parents. No knowing what was going on or what to expect, she just did as she was told. It seemed her questions would have to wait until later…until she met this great-grandmother of hers…whomever she might be.


End file.
